


Bill Denbrough Beats the Devil (III)

by starcrawler



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King, Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Minor Character Death, Pre-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-08-19 16:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 41,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20212552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starcrawler/pseuds/starcrawler
Summary: The year is 1987, and President Ronald Reagan hears word of the mysterious disappearances happening in the town of Derry, Maine. He decides to take action and evacuate the town, and relocate all its inhabitants to Hawkins, Indiana.There, the Losers find that things are not quite what they first seemed. The devil breathes, and It seeks them.





	1. Bill Denbrough Takes a Stand (I)

_ Bill Denbrough was the last to arrive at the diner in Chicago. Everyone else was already talking, catching up. Ben Hanscom was whispering something into Beverly Marsh’s ear behind his cupped hand, causing her to laugh. Eddie Kaspbrak and Mike Hanlon were conversing in low tones about something serious, if Bill could trust his ability to read expressions. The stock market, perhaps? There were two vacant seats, one clearly for himself. Bill had this sinking feeling that the other chair would not be filled tonight, nor any other night, for that matter. There was that intuition. _

_ The low buzz of multiple conversations came to an abrupt end as all heads turned towards this new arrival, their leader. Bill walked in impressively, head high and eyes looking down, as if he were some noble written in one of his novels chancing upon a few peasant children rolling in the dirt. There was silence as he stood, waiting for a reaction, anything, while they waited for him to say something. Perhaps five seconds was a tad bit too long for someone like Richie Tozier to have to sit through in silence, and so, he broke it. _

_ “Well oh well oh well oh well oh well. Maybe Big Bill isn’t getting as bald as he looks on his author portraits after all,” said Richie, slyly. _

_ “Buh-Buh-Beep beep, Richie,” Bill replied, and there is a moment of silence. And then everyone was smiling nostalgically and laughing and Bill was shaking everyone’s __(except for Bev’s. No, she got a hug. No, nothing ought to be made of it)_ _hands. He shook Mike’s last._

_ He gestured at Mike, the host, as they all moved around the cramped space of the table, as if to let him call the order. Mike’s eyes widened and he shook his head, smiling. Bill sighed but, smiling as well, looked around the table at all the familiar faces he’d known and loved from his youth, and said, “Luh-het’s eat, sh-sh-shall we?” _

_“So s-Stan cuh-cuh-couldn’t make it tonight?” Bill asked wearily, looking at Mike. Richie beat Mike to it._

_“Yeah, I know, it’s the second time now! The first time was just annoying, but now it’s getting fucked up! I mean, does he think accounting is more interesting than us or something?” Richie whispered that last question as quietly as he could, for he was getting glares from a man sitting a few tables away with his children for standing up at the table and saying “fucked” at the top of his voice._

_ “Oh come on Richie, I’m sure it’s not like tha-” began Ben (who was now ripped and not fat at all) comfortingly, but Richie did not want to be comforted. _

_ “No! I’m done with his excuses! We promised to do our best not to drift apart and he isn’t doing his part! I mean look at Bill! He crossed the fucking Atla—sorry!—freaking Atlantic!” _

_ Mike made the “sit down” motion with his hands, as Richie was standing again. Richie blushed and sat down. “Stan is Stan. He has his way of doing things and I’m sure there was a better reason for not being here than just that he was busy.” _

_ “Yeah ‘cause he likes making money. Jews, am I right, fellas?” Richie was standing once again, looking down hopefully at his friends, who were all smiling and giggling. The father a few tables down looked at him in disgust. _

_ “Beep beep Richie,” said Bev fondly, pulling him down by his arm. _

_ “Ah-Alright guys let's nuh-not talk about s-s-Stan too much tonight. I’m p-p-pissed t-too r-r-Richie but talking uh-uh-about him will only m-m-make us more mad.” said Bill, and everyone nodded along. _

_ They ate their food slowly, all the while talking about nothings and somethings and just things that happened since their last meeting, only a few months ago. _

_ After all the things that happened with It, things had gone on normally for all of them, more or less. Beverly was adopted by a kind family that lived in Derry. Stan made amends with his father after his fiasco of a bar mitzvah. And Bill accepted the fact that his parents would never love him like they did before Georgie died. After graduating high school together, and realizing that only Bill, Ben, and Stan were going to college, they all pledged to meet four times a year, every three months, and each time they would all fly or go through whichever mode of transportation they wanted to the home of a member of the Losers’ Club. Said member would have to pay for every expense, which was alright, considering they were all rather well-off. _

_ In some far-off place in his mind, cordoned off with yellow tape saying _ Caution! Depressing Thoughts Ahead! _ Bill imagined them growing apart, and slowly forgetting about their childhoods and the people with whom they shared them. He used such an idea in his book _ They_, a New York Times bestseller, and he shuddered to think that it should ever happen to them. _

_ And while the memory of his childhood was fuzzy with age, Bill never forgot. Not really. He could remember watching his mother be sedated by doctors after Georgie’s death, Beverly’s bloody bathroom, his fight with Richie, and the clowns, the blood, the spider, and everything. But there was something that was bothering him, as he watched his friends talk cheerfully without taking anything they said in. He could just barely pick out this forgotten collection of memories from the many layers of his mind. What was it? He remembered it happened after the fight in the sewers, after he had put a bolt in not-Georgie’s beautiful head. Yes, but it was far after that. Was it after they made the vow with the broken glass, and Bill kissed Beverly near the Kissing Bridge, and she left? Yes, it seemed to be. He remembered standing _

1

for a long time with his hands on the rickety white fence, looking down into the Barrens as, overhead, the first stars seed the summer sky. He stands under the blue and over the black and watches the Barrens fill up with darkness.

_ I never want to play down there again_, he thinks suddenly and is amazed to find the thought is not terrible or distressing but tremendously liberating.

He stands there a moment longer and then turns away from the Barrens and starts home, walking along the dark sidewalk with his hands in his pockets, glancing from time to time and the houses of Derry, warmly lit against the night.

After a block or two he begins to walk faster, thinking of supper…and a block or two after that, he begins to whistle.

2

Bill sat on the living room couch, watching the television. He sat squashed between his parents. Zack was reading a magazine while Sharon was reading another one of her novels. They paid no heed to Bill as he watched the news, glued to the screen. The only words uttered from the parents was from Zack, being: “Aren’t you a bit too young to be watching the news?” which caused Bill to swell with resentment.

But that was alright. Bill quickly forgot his irritation and even the chilliness of being between the two refrigerators known as his parents as he finds the live broadcast of the press conference President Reagan called for a few days ago. He knew all his friends were watching or listening as well. It was about Derry. Finally, an adult had noticed.

_ “I come before you today with grave tidings. _

_ “Just a month ago, I received word of a town named Derry in the state of Maine, in which twenty-seven children disappeared in the span of a year, with half of them coming up as dead with their bodies heavily mutilated. _

_ “It began with the disappearance of a seven-year-old boy named George Denbrough, in the fall of 1986. He disappeared leaving not a trace but a trail of blood to the sewers. _

_ “He has not yet been found.”_

At this point Bill had his mouth hanging open, in shock and grief. Here was the most powerful man in the world, the wielder of the mightiest military known in history, giving an elegy to his little brother, who was taken by It. Both his parents were no longer engrossed in whatever they had been reading. They too stared at the screen in wonder.

"_After George disappeared, more children began doing so as well, some in manners more gruesome than poor George’s. Many children were found, their bodies mutilated and eaten and disfigured almost beyond recognition. _

_ “Now, I will not go into any more detail. There is nothing you need to know other than the fact that there is some sick, twisted creature haunting Derry, Maine, and children are dying in pain and anguish. _

_ “Yes, I said ‘creature.’ Many people believe it is some child predator, or a serial killer. Something human. I don’t think so. While those are possible, what is probable is that it is some fearsome animal, a puma or a wolf or perhaps some undocumented abomination, that is causing all this death and suffering. _

_“I cannot allow in good conscience the deaths to continue. I do not know why the mayor of Derry has done nothing about the situation, and frankly I feel quite embarrassed on his behalf. _

_ “Today America puts its foot down. No more children will die in Derry, Maine while I have anything to say about it. _

_ “That is why I am issuing an executive order that requires the evacuation of all Derry reside-” _here the voices of the news reporters grew louder as they all stood and waved their microphones, all hoping to get a question through to the president, who now had his eyes closed and head bowed, as if in prayer.

Now all three Denbrough’s (not counting the portrait of Georgie, which had its mouth in a smile where it hadn’t before) were gaping at the camera as chaos reigned in the White House many miles down in Washington. They all waited eagerly as the reporters quieted after realizing the president had not finished speaking and was not ready for questions.

_ “I have spoken to John McKernan, the governor of Maine, and he has been agreed with me on the immediate dismissal of the mayor of Derry. He has also been working tirelessly for the past two months to find a safe, suitable home for all the displaced people of Derry who need one. _

_ “He has found that home in the town of Hawkins, Indiana, a town with beautiful views and vacant houses waiting to be called homes. _

_ “Mr. McKernan has taken the liberty to meet with the mayor of Hawkins, Larry Kline, an honest and intelligent leader, by Mr. McKernan’s accounts. They have come to their agreements on housing and the transfer of Derry business and services. _

_ “Maine state officials will begin handing out information on housing arrangements and other matters beginning at the start of August. _

_ “Movement will begin on September 13, and will continue until September 19. After midnight on September 19, the town of Derry, Maine, will fall under federal jurisdiction as we try to capture the creature and slay that beast which haunts this town. If we cannot find the creature in the time of one year, a thought I find quite unlikely, on September 19, 1988, we will seal off the town permanently and that will be the end of it. _

_ “Remember to keep the residents of Derry in your prayers, especially the families of the victims; their pain and suffering was needless and terrible. _

_ “I promise to all those in Derry watching: we’re gonna kill that son of a bitch.” _

A cheer erupted in the White House and it echoed all the way up the East Coast.

3

“Can you believe this shit, Eds? Yowza, yowza, YOWZA!” cried Richie as the Losers’ Club sat at the quarry.

“Yeah, okay Einstein. You’ve been talking about this for the past fifteen minutes. And don’t call me ‘Eds.’”

“Seriously, Ronald McDonald thinks it’s an animal? C’mon that’s just ridiculous,” said Richie, now ignoring Eddie.

“He’s pretty close if you think about it. I mean, he’s had no prior knowledge or anything. I think it’s pretty impressive how close to It he got,” said Stan.

“Alright, Pinocchio,” Richie muttered.

“What’s gonna happen? What are y’all’s parents saying?” asked Mike.

“I dunno. I know Martha, y’know, my adopter, isn’t exactly wealthy, so she probably doesn’t have another house lying around or something,” said Beverly.

“Meaning…?” said Richie slowly, turning his hand in a “go on” gesture.

“I’m probably moving,” said Beverly.

Richie let out a deep breath. “Yeah, me too. My parents were talking about it at breakfast.”

Beverly graced him with a smile, one which quickly disappeared when she heard Richie say, in his terrible Irish cop voice, “Oi think the ladies at Hawkins will be a foine picking, eh, Bev?”

Bill snorted, and the frown on Beverly’s face disappeared as she looked at him.

There was something in the air. Nobody knew what it was, but everyone knew what it meant: Big Bill was about to speak, and that meant nobody else was going to until he finished. Everyone looked at him while he tried to gather his thoughts.

Finally, he said, “Muh-My puh-puh-parents are gonna guh-go to Hawkins” here he looked so proud when he spat out the name completely “too.”

“What?! Your parents are loaded, Bill! You could move to California or something!” cried Richie.

Bill leveled Richie with a flat look that silenced his sputtering. “I-I-If my puh-parents were l-loaded I would’ve guh-gotten outta th-th-this sh-hithole al-al-already.”

“Fair enough,” Richie said mildly. “Well I’m happy you’re gonna be with me and Bevvie out there in the middle of nowhere. What about you Eddie Spaghetti? Are you joining in our Trail of Tears? I sure hope so, ‘cause if you’re going that means your mom’s going, and that means we’re totally gonna fu-”

“Beep beep Richie,” Eddie said, unamused.

“Aw, c’mon Eds, don’t be jealous! I would love your company too. Y’know you’re my best friend” Eddie smiled, ignoring the name, “and my stepson.” Eddie scowled.

“Yeah okay I am going. My mom really likes it. Apparently Hawkins is listed at number sixty two in ‘100 Cleanest Towns in America’ and Derry doesn’t even make the list because of the Barrens and I honestly think that it’ll be a good-”

“Yeesh, okay, sorry I asked,” said Richie, leaving Stan snorting with his peculiar laughter. Eddie glared at him but said nothing.

“Wuh-What ab-b-bout you, buh-Ben?” asked Bill.

“Oh, I’m moving. My mom always wanted to get out of here after everything that’s happened, but she didn’t have the money. I think she’s relieved that President Reagan is doing this,” said Ben.

Bill nodded. “Mike?”

“I don’t know man. I don’t think my uncle’s happy about this, but we don’t have much of a choice on it either. I mean, it’s a free move, y’know? And a free house. So yeah, I think we’re moving,” said Mike.

Bill nodded again. “Wh-hat about y-you s-Stan?”

“We’re moving. They’ve got a synagogue in Hawkins, not that I’m gonna attend. Also they have these really cool birds there tha-”

“Nerd alert! Nerd alert! Stan the Man is a total nerd! Everyone grab your pennies and hide them!” cried Richie.

“That last one made no sense, Richie.”

“And you don’t like it because it made no cents.”

There was a pause.

“Ha. Funny.”

“Did that give you a good chuck?”

“Sure it did.”

“Oh-okay so it s-s-sounds like w-we’re all guh-going, huh?” asked Bill, sounding relieved.

“Sure does, Big Bill,” said Beverly happily.

“Luh-Looks l-like the l-Losers are s-sticking to-to-together.”

“Ah say, ah say, boy, das right! The Losers, ah say, are sticking together like a couple of flies on a strip of tape!” said Richie.

“Y-You guys wuh-wuh-wanna puh-play ch-hiken?” asked Bill.

4

The Losers were splashing around in the water, with Beverly sitting on Bill’s shoulders (both tried their hardest not to blush at this, while Ben looked on in dismay) and Eddie sitting on Mike’s. They were playing chicken.

“Holy shit Eds stop being such a baby! She’s not gonna sue you if you touch her tits or something!” screamed Richie.

Eddie, who had been thinking about the potential number of germs that could inhabit Beverly’s skin, and not at all about the anatomical differences in the male and female bodies, turned around and snapped, “Stop talki—_glug_!”

Beverly managed to push Eddie off Mike’s shoulders while his back was to her, and the final part of his retort to Richie was spoken underwater.

Eddie pushed his way onto the surface, gasping and sputtering. He quickly turned to Richie and glared. Richie shrugged guiltily.

Bill and Beverly were busy celebrating. Beverly had gotten off Bill’s shoulders and the two of them were chumming around, meaning, essentially, that they were touching each other as much as possible while under the guise of “celebration.”

The kiss they shared near the Kissing Bridge burned brightly in both their minds, leaving Beverly a bright red and Bill glad that the water came up to his stomach. They hadn’t talked about it at all since the incident, and while they both really wanted to, both were afraid the other had meant nothing of it, and that talking about it would make an already tense relationship even more awkward. And so things stalled.

Now they both stood calmly in a brief moment of clarity, looking at each other. Beverly looked at Bill through her lashes, uncharacteristically shy, and Bill couldn’t breathe because _ Oh God she’s so beautiful I can’t even handle it and aw jeez is she leaning in? Oh shit, she’s totally leaning in. Okay, remember, Bill, you’re just reciprocating—oh who am I kidding? I sound like such a pussy. Okay just…oh what the fuck. _

Thoughts like these whirred through Bill’s head as he and Beverly leaned in towards each other, drawn together as if there was a magnet on each pair of lips. The world suddenly slipped out from under Bill’s feet, and it was just him and Beverly. No Losers, nobody else. Just them. And they were getting closer, and

“Oh man is that a turtle?” cried Ben, looking down into the water.

And the spell was broken, and Bill and Beverly looked away awkwardly, while Stan and Mike shared a knowing glance, Richie coughed into his fist, and Eddie glared at Ben disapprovingly.

The sound of a revving engine filled the quarry, causing the Losers to freeze. They knew that sound.

“Buh-Bowers!” Bill whispered urgently, and they got out of the water as quickly and with as little splashing as possible.

“How the fuck did he get his car out here?” hissed Richie as he picked up his glasses from the bank and fixed them onto his face. “Ah that’s better.”

“Doesn’t matter. We have to get outta here,” said Beverly nervously. They reached their bikes, where their clothes lay in a pile.

“Bev, turn around!” Richie hissed.

“Nuh-Nuh-No t-time! Wuh-Wet un-underwear!” Bill whispered urgently.

“Oh fuck me,” Richie muttered as he put his shirt on. He grimaced as he put his pants over his wet underwear. Everyone else dressed in silence.

The engine revved again, this time closer. “Oh shit,” Eddie whimpered. The sound of “Eyes Without a Face” by Billy Idol was now audible to the Losers.

“_Autobots, roll out!_” said Bill softly in his best Peter Cullen impression once they were all on their bikes.

They bike slowly, carefully. The sound of the engine had come from the East. That much was clear. Unfortunately town was also Eastward.

Bill was riding in the front, and he was going around the quarry. He planned to go around and hopefully Bowers’ car tried to tail them. Then there would be a farther distance between them.

They rode slowly, quietly, trying not to make a sound. Bill knew this was probably the most ridiculous he had ever looked on his oversized bike. But no matter. As long as they got away, everything would be fine.

Of course, that was wishful thinking. Ben was unused to riding a bike. His mother always encouraged him to walk more, hoping beyond hope he might take a few steps away from a premature death. And so, despite knowing full well biking was also a form of exercise, Mrs. Hanscom never bought a bike for her son until recently, when he had begged her for one, as he needed a way to get to his friends. She managed to get a good deal off the same man who sold Silver to Bill. She bought it for ten dollars, an absolute steal. It was an old Schwinn, whose color had been long lost through time. It was a bit small for Ben, who practically flowed over the seat, but it was better than nothing. The Losers taught him how to ride it, and only a few weeks ago did he finally get the hang of it. But he was used to riding quickly, with lots of momentum. He didn’t know how to keep balance on his Schwinn when he was going more slowly than his walking pace, and so he fell over on his side and onto a bush, causing a deafening rustle.

For a brief moment there was only silence, as Ben lay in the bush, trying not to make any more noise, and the Losers stared at him in horror.

Then the engine revved for the third time, and this time it didn’t stop. They could hear the sound of a dirt crunching under the tires. Henry Bowers was coming for them.

“Holy shit! Benhurryupgetupyoufatlump get the FUCK UP!” screamed Richie as he watched Ben scramble up from the bush. Bill dismounted and manhandled Ben because he got stuck. Stan was already riding away.

Ben finally got on his bike, with Bill mounting Silver less than a second later. Bill turned around and saw the telltale glint of blue in the distance. “GO!” Bill bellowed.

And they were riding for their lives.

5

Henry Bowers was alive. He was insane, but he was alive.

After being thrown into the well, a fall that would have taken sixteen minutes had there not been some divine intervention, Henry was sure he was dead.

_ Well, it was a good run, old Henry boy, _he thought dryly.

He thought of his friends Belch and Victor Criss, sitting back in his car with their throats slit, and chuckled. _ Maybe I do deserve this. Yeah, I guess I do _.

He fell for a continuous nine minutes after that thought, each minute being a layer of hell for him to experience. And then he stopped. It was abrupt and he felt some intense whiplash. He knew for a fact he had broken some ribs.

“What the-” he gasped.

Then he shot up. Up, up, up, past the hole and to the top, and out of the well. He walked around the house. _ I’ve seen this one. It’s the one on Neibolt Street! _ he thought triumphantly. He remembered walking in, and finding the well easily. The way out would just be the same way, but in reverse. Or so he thought. And he walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and walked, and had it been ten hours or ten minutes? He did not know. It must have been ten seconds. Yes, certainly. Or ten days? Years? He was not so certain about those.

After what had in reality been a day and a half of wandering in the well house, during which the exit was always less than ten feet away at all times, Henry Bowers stumbled out of the house in the dead of night a new man, or the shell of one.

He looked up and saw the moon. It was big and round and full and slightly yellow, like it got sometimes on those nights. He saw the beautiful moon, and suddenly _ pop! _ an eye appeared on it. Startled, but intrigued, Henry kept staring. Another eye appeared, and then a nose, and a mouth. There was makeup and dry, flaky, white skin on the moon. It was the face of It.

_ Hello there, Henry Flowers. _

“Who the fuck are You?”

_ Why, I’m the man on the moon! I glow and make things alight. I am beautiful. _

“You’re one ugly fucker, I can tell You that.”

_ Oh. Haw haw haw. Well that’s too bad. Boo hoo. THAT’S TOO BAD. _

Suddenly Henry fell to his knees in the dead grass. A knife appeared in his hand. It was his father’s switchblade.

_ I could make your hand slip, Henry. _ Plunge! _ goes the weasel, into the dark abyss. Yes, you’d like that, huh Henry? I’ll make you carve into your own stomach. What’s a good thing to carve? Maybe “Ben?” _

“N-no please.” Henry was crying in fear now.

_ Hmm. Funny, funny, frightful, funny. Funny. Fear. I gotta bounce. I gotta bounce to the other side. The other side needs Me! I’ll see ya tomorrow eh? Be good in the meantime. Be a good boy, Henry boy. _

Henry sat there in the yard outside 29 Neibolt Street in the early dawn, with nothing in his hands, feeling something wet in his jeans. _ Until tomorrow, Moon Man_.

6

The Losers quickly caught up to Stan, who was never a fast rider. He gasped in panic as Bill overtook him. The blue was getting bigger now, the revving louder.

They were almost at town. Bill’s house was only a few minutes away, but they needed Bowers off their tails.

“R-Richie!” Bill cried over the wind, not daring to glance around for fear of hitting something. They were going well over the twenties now.

“What?!” Richie yelled.

“Muh-my house! T-take th-them th-there!”

“What are you planning?!”

“W-watch.”

Bill slowed a bit, falling behind everyone except for Ben.

“Bill, what are you doing?!” Beverly screamed.

Bill ignored her and turned to Ben, who was now level and gasping for breath.

“Ride f-for your l-life, Huh-Haystack,” Bill said to Ben, who could only nod.

_ Alright Bowers, let’s try something. _

The others were far ahead now, and they followed Richie as he turned to the left towards Bill’s house. He gave one glance behind him, at Bill, who now seemed almost level with the car. He saw Bill’s head, tiny in the distance, give a little nod. And that was all he needed.

“Alright ese’s! Let's make-uh Beeg Beel proud!” he cried. The others followed behind closely.

Bowers’ car was really close to Bill now. He could hear it, almost feel the heat coming off it. And he was scared. _ This better work_.

Bill leaned down on his bike, his brown hair whipping wildly around him, easily going thirty, and showing no signs of slowing down. He shot out of the woods, and now he was on paved road. Henry was only seconds behind.

_ Come on, c’mon, gotta go faster. Go faster! _

“Hi yo Silver!” Bill cried.

_ Faster. _

“Hi yo Silver!”

_ Now do the thing, Big Bill. _

“Hi yo Silver, AWWAYYYYYY!”

And Bill was riding faster than he ever had in his life. He was riding faster than when he had to get medicine for Eddie out in the Barrens. He was doing it again. Bill Denbrough was riding to beat the devil.

7

The other Losers managed to race their way to Bill’s house without any mishaps, unless one counted the instance in which Richie’s dry underwear, which he had packed to change into after being in the water, and which was sitting in the basket in the front of his bike during the entire ride, got blown behind him in the wind and hit Stan solidly in the face.

Richie all but jumped off his bike while the others dismounted and pulled up the garage door by the bottom and ushered them all in quickly.

“Take your bikes inside! Bowers will know!” he hissed at them.

They hurried inside with their bikes, dropping them while Richie looked outside, glancing left and right, and pulled the door down.

Once he did a quick headcount and was sure all of them but Bill was there, he sighed in relief. “Yowza, yowza, YOWZA! That was insane! Insane!”

“What do you think Bill is doing?” Mike asked breathlessly, as Eddie took a puff from his aspirator. Richie quickly sobered.

“He looked like he had a plan,” he said.

“And his plans usually work,” Ben gasped in an attempt to reassure Beverly, who paced in the garage, worrying her bottom lip and looking harassed. _ Good job Ben. You just shot yourself in the foot. _

“Honestly, though, I have no clue what he wanted to do,” said Richie thoughtfully. “I mean he-”

Richie was interrupted by a distant cry. Everyone quieted.

“Hi yo Silver!”

Grinning, Richie pulled up the garage door to see Bill with his hair wild and eyes bright. He was standing on the pedals and smiling triumphantly.

“Atta boy, Big Bill!” Richie cried, his hands on his hips. He mimed wiping away a tear. “You sure know how to make Mama proud!”

Still grinning, perhaps a little crazily from all the adrenaline, Bill said, “Oh s-s-stuff it r-Richie. But th-thanks for l-leading thuh-hem here.”

Bill dismounted, and found his legs to be a bit wobbly. Maybe very wobbly. Richie caught him as his knees buckled. “Woah thar, cowboy. Yer knees are a bit wobbly-knobbly after a long byke ryde.”

Beverly rushed over to help. Of course she just wanted to help a friend, and not just have an excuse to touch Bill, even if it’s under the armpit. _ Honestly, the armpit sounds fine to me, _ she thought as they helped him hobble up the stairs and to the living room. The other Losers followed behind closely, giving a chant of “Big Bill, Big Bill, Big Bill.”

Richie and Beverly set him down on the couch, where he sat, looking at them all, still grinning sunnily. “Suh-So I’ve g-got my own aw-honor g-guard, huh?”

Beverly dropped down beside him. “I can’t believe you have the _ nerve _ to laugh about the whole thing. I was worried sick you know? You know Henry is a sick bastard and you could’ve died and-”

Bill took her hands in his. She gulped when she looked in his warm, blue eyes. “I’m al-alright, Bev. Uh-Honest. Y-You sh-sh-shouldn’t wuh-worry about muh-me,” he said calmly, and Beverly felt all the worry and anger and everything negative flowing out of her.

“Oh get a room, you two. You make me sick,” said Richie, miming clawing his throat, and immediately Bill and Beverly turned pink at the face.

“C’mon Bill, tell us what happened!” cried Eddie.

“Yeah, c’mon Big Bill!”

“Yeah!”

Bill looked a bit embarrassed but pleased at their attention. “Guh-Guys i-it’s really nuh-not muh-much…”

“Oh, go on, Bill!” this was Stan. If Stan the Man was interested enough to speak up then Bill just had to.

“Oh-Oh-Okay. So I wuh-was r-riding and s-screaming

8

“Hi yo Silver, AWWAYYYYYY!”

Bill was now approaching main street. He had a plan. A simple one, one with few moving parts, but still a plan.

Good, he was almost there, now there's gotta be a brick wall somewhere… 

There!

Bill sped towards it, with Bowers not far behind him. He could hear his taunts.

“Hey b-b-b-b-b-Billy! S-S-S-S-S-So good to s-s-s-s-s-see you!” Henry screamed.

_ C’mon, keep him distracted. _

“Huh-Huh-Huh.” Bill almost screamed in frustration at his stutter. He had so little time left! He needed to say it, and say it audibly.

Then Bill remembered, in the far reaches of his memory, from what felt like a long time ago, Richie’s words: 

“_You don’t know you don’t always._”

“_What?_”

“_You should be the one doing the impressions._”

Bill closed his eyes. What was a movie character with a loud voice that carried? Emperor Palpatine? It was worth a shot, he supposed.

In his best Emperor Palpatine impression, which was just cackling and croaking and pushing his voice to the limits, Bill screamed, “_How’re Belch and Criss?!_” _ Oh shit, it works! _

Bowers, stupefied for a moment, and more surprised Bill would say anything at all rather than by the content of his sentence, barely noticed as Bill took a hard left, nearly throwing himself off Silver. Bowers’ eyes widened. Before him was a massive brick wall, rushing towards him at forty miles an hour. He tried to turn quickly but… 

_ Bang! _

Bill stopped and stared in shock as Bowers’ car swerve and hit the wall dead-on on the passenger side. _ Oh shit! Did I kill him? _ he thought in panic. He rode to Bowers’ side, and Bowers groaned. “Henry?” Bill asked timidly.

“Wha-?” Bowers muttered. Bill looked down. Nothing was thrust against or impaling Bowers, so he was fine. Just stunned.

Bill looked around. People were gathering.

_ Time to get the hell out of here_.

“Nuh-Nothing. Juh-Just wi-wishing you a p-p-p-pleasant d-day,” Bill said cheerfully, and he wheeled off.

9

Everyone stared at Bill in stunned silence. Bill, who was growing uncomfortable under their gazes, muttered, “What?”

Then Richie exploded. “Holy shit! That’s so sick! So sick! You just went _ reee! _ and he went _ vroom! reee! _ and then he went _ ka-bang! _ and holy shit!”

Mike was shaking his head and smiling, “That’s pretty badass, Bill.”

Bill turned pink at the praise, “Nuh-Nah. It’s ah-ah-alright…”

Eddie stared at Bill with unadulterated adoration. “Bill that’s so cool!”

“Why’d you check if he’s okay, though? Honestly I would’ve been fine if he’d splattered on the wall and looked like Eddie’s mom’s vagina on the fifth of every month,” said Richie, drawing a disgusted noise from Eddie.

“Ew, what the fuck? How the hell do you know it’s the fifth—actually DON’T answer that,” cried Eddie.

“I-I h-have a heart y-you nuh-know,” Bill protested, to which Richie snorted.

“Okay, alright Bill. Alright. Forget that. I am beyond touched and slightly aroused you took the time and effort to remember one of my passing comments.”

“Oh th-that. Yeah. I-It wuh-worked.”

“Let’s hear it, Bill. Let’s hear the Emperor,” said Richie.

“Uh…it’s nuh-not r-really guh-good…” Bill began, a bit nervous. _ Be more like Richie. Learn to let go. _

“C’mon Bill!”

“Bill Palpatine!”

“That just sounds stupid, Eds.”

“Shut up Richie. And don’t call me ‘Eds.’”

_ “Beep beep Richie,” _ croaked Bill in his best Palpatine impression. Everyone was silent for a moment, and then they all exploded in laughter.

“Wuh-What?!” Bill cried, but laughed along nonetheless.

“_Hah! _ Bill that was _ hah! _ terrible!” Richie managed through his laughs.

“Luh-Let’s hear a guh-good p-Palpatine im-impression th-th-then, ch-Trashmouth,” Bill challenged.

“Okay, okay. Whoo! Alright, that was a good laugh. _ Bill just let out a good one! _ Sorry, everyone: you won’t be laughing after this one. This is gonna be serious. Seriously awesome. Okay. Here it goes,” said Richie, closing his eyes, taking a deep breath. Everyone waited excitedly.

_ “Good. I can feel your ange_—Hack!”

That last noise was caused by Richie’s strained vocals. It was a massive cough, the first of many, leaving Richie doubled over and wheezing. All the other Losers roared with laughter.

“Ugh, alright, you got me Bill. I’m never doing that again,” gasped Richie.

Everyone laughed until the sound of a car pulling into the driveway filled the room. Everyone but Bill moved to the window to look.

“Bill, it’s your parents,” said Beverly.

Bill, whose face had soured slightly, nodded. “Luh-Let’s go.”

They left through the back door, going off to do whatever other adventure Bill could imagine for them.

It was the last day of July.

10

The state officials arrived at each house in Derry the next day. Bill watched by the stairs as his parents received pamphlets. They were asked if they were going to Hawkins. His parents said “yes,” and the official marked it down on a spreadsheet he had carried with him all day. He handed Sharon a slip of paper with an address and a date.

“You are going to be moving out on the fourteenth. Don’t want to be clogging up the highways, y’know?” said the official.

“Can’t we just pack and leave before any of the designated moving days to beat the traffic?” asked Zack, with a raised eyebrow.

The official smiled and said, “I suppose you could, but the house in Hawkins might not be ready yet. People there are cleaning them up and everything.”

“Ah.”

“Yes. Ah.”

And so the rest of August went by in a blur for the Losers. They rushed to whichever stores they could to try to salvage something from the clearance sales.

Beverly got a pack of gum. Stan got a new shoelace. And Richie got a lifetime ban from Keene’s Pharmacy after marking each available box of pads “I love Mrs. K.” with a Sharpie.

At home, things were even more chaotic. There was packing to be done. Things to be thrown out. And that caused the first fight Bill and his mom had in a long time.

“Nuh-no! I’m not th-throwing away muh-muh-my cuh-comics!” cried Bill in dismay.

“No, Bill. How many times do I have to tell you? There’s not enough room in the van!” said Sharon angrily.

“No! I-If you cuh-can keep y-your books I duh-dunno why-”

“Because we’re different Bill! I’m paying for the moving van, so I get to keep what I want. And there is no room for anything more!” Sharon felt a bit guilty for the lie.

“Puh-President r-Reagan is p-paying for the v-van.”

_ Dammit. _

“Okay then, I’m throwing them away myself.”

“No!”

Bill tried to grab onto Sharon, who shrugged off his skinny self easily. She grabbed a lighter from the counter.

“Nuh-No p-please! I c-can ask s-s-someone if th-they have room on th-their vans!” Bill said desperately.

Sharon paused, as if thinking, and then put the flame down on the paper. The comics lit up immediately.

There was a heavy silence in the kitchen broken only by the cackling sound of fire as Bill and his mother stared at each other.

“This is why you don’t talk back to me, Bill. This was an option the whole time but you got smart with me. I had to do this, you know? I-”

Bill didn’t hear the rest of what she said as he stormed up the stairs towards his room, angry tears burning in his eyes. He turned around at the top. _ “Fuck you!” _

Sharon stood in shock and stared at where he stood just seconds ago. She felt a prickly sort of fear all over her body. She was both afraid for and afraid of her son. When did he change so much, so that she now didn’t even recognize her oldest? Once again she wished Bill was just a bit more like Georgie, so cheerful and happy and not at all like an adult. That Bill could just act his age. Sometimes she wished it had been Bill who-

_ No! How could you think that? He’s your son! _

Sobbing miserably, Sharon watched as the flames consumed the pages.

11

Bill sat in family’s station wagon, looking outside the window. They were on the outskirts of Derry, and he saw his friends all gathered, mingling with all the other onlookers and wellwishers. As his name, “Denbrough” was the first alphabetically among his friends’, his family was the first of theirs’ to go.

Their predictions made at the quarry had been correct: they were all moving to Hawkins. Even grizzled old Phil Hanlon of Hanlon Farms said so.

There was a cold sort of tension in the wagon. Sharon and Bill had yet to say anything to each other since their fight, and that was fine by both of them.

_ We’ll see who bends first. _

But Bill could not feel upset at all. Here they were: the Losers’ Club, in all their misfit glory, standing on the right side of the road. Eddie was waving solemnly at Bill, as if he would never see him again. Stan and Mike were smiling, with Mike yelling “We’re gonna miss you, Bill! Two days is a long time!” causing Ben to giggle. Beverly was grinning toothily and waving, and Richie was waving his handkerchief in the air and not blinking, so his eyes were uncomfortable and overflowing with tears.

“You go get those Japs, Big Bill! And you better come back home! I won’t forgive you if Little Timmy has to grow up not knowing his father!” he cried.

Bill guffawed at the last one. He rolled down the window. “Buh-Beep beep r-Richie! I’ll s-see y’all s-s-soon!”

Now all the Losers were grinning and waving. “See ya, Bill!”

“We’ll be there soon!”

“Stay cool, Big Bill!”

“Stay in school!”

“The fuck was that supposed to mean, Stanley?”

Bill rolled up the window, still grinning. He took one last look behind him. His friends were pinpricks in the distance. The town of Derry loomed in the distance, like some grinning spectre, with its arms wide open in invitation, as if to say _ come back, I won’t hurt you_. Bill looked at the town, and thought of all his memories here. He thought about the Barrens, the clubhouse, and the quarry. It finally struck him that he was about to leave and probably never return to this hell.

_ Excellent_.

He leaned back in his seat, ignoring the frigid feeling of sitting behind his parents in a car. He closed his eyes and began to sleep.

They stopped multiple times along the way, as the entire ride would take about eighteen hours without stops. They stopped at a gas station in Albany, then Buffalo, and then spent the night in Cleveland. They never stopped long enough to take in the city; they just stayed to get gas, maybe get some food, use the restroom. That was all.

At the motel, Bill refused to get under the covers. They were old and gross and _ Oh God, I sound like Eddie. _But there was no way he was going to, no way. Zack just shrugged, and Sharon ignored him.

They fell asleep quickly and easily, the parents, and were soon snoring away. But Bill, bundled up in many layers of jackets, as the autumn chill began to fall in, and lying on top of his blankets, could not. He had lain there for almost four hours, unable to even close his eyes, when he heard it.

Bill shot up in his bed, eyes darting around wildly. There it was again! There was a scuffling sound, the sound of feet walking quickly on hardwood. It was coming from outside the door.

Carefully and quietly, Bill got up from his bed. It was a bit awkward, as he was unusually heavy with all his layers, but he managed. He crept towards the door, hand outstretched, grabbing the room key on the way. He turned the handle and pulled inwards slightly. He stuffed his face in the gap.

Nothing. But there was the sound again, coming from down the stairs. It was from the lobby. Bill got out of the room fully, and closed the door silently behind him. He walked down the hall, taking the left to go down the stairs, and stopped. The stairs bent around so he would have to turn around to walk to the lobby. He crept forward and turned slowly.

Standing in the middle of the lobby was a man, probably the receptionist. Bill and the man made eye contact. Then the man was suddenly wreathed in tongues of fire, lighting up the entire lobby.

Bill watched in horror as the man opened his mouth to scream, but no sound ever came out. He fell to his knees, face screwed in obvious pain. He watched as the man’s skin cracked, burned, blackened, and as the man fell forward, dead, Bill did not notice he was crying.

The flames died immediately after the man fell. There was only silence. There was silence for a long time. Bill had no idea what to do.

_ He thrusts his fists against the posts. _

He almost screamed when he heard the voice. It was that voice. It was the voice he hated the most in the world, and probably, though he loathed to think it, the last voice Georgie ever heard. The voice of It.

_ And still insists he sees the ghosts. _

Bill scrambled up the stairs, hearing loud, twisted laughter following him. _ Oh, Billy. This isn’t how you greet old friends, is it? What are your parents teaching you? _ _  
_

His hands shaking, he fumbled in his pocket for the room key, and found that it wasn’t there. _ Oh shit. _

_ Oh, looking for this? _

Bill closed his eyes in dread, and turned around. There, standing in all Its demented glory, was Pennywise the Dancing Clown. In Its right hand was the hotel key.

_ C’mon Billy. I know you want it. You want to get away from Me. What are you going to do? _

“Y-You’re not r-r-real. Y-Y-Y-You’re nuh-not real! Wuh-we killed y-You.”

_ I’m not real? _ Pennywise put a hand on Its chest. _ Oh I’m plenty real. Plenty. Bountifully. And I’m not dead. Oh no. Things have changed, Billy boy. _

Bill breathed hard now. Pennywise walked forward. Bill tried to take a step back, but forgot the door was right behind him, and he fell on his butt.

_ So you’re a paper man too, huh? Like old Henry boy. “Nothing like a little fear to make a paper man crumble.” That’s what the butcher said. You’re different without your ittle wittle tasty friends. _

“Guh-Get ou-out.”

_ What’s the magic word, Billy? _

“I-I s-s-said, ‘Guh-Get out!”

“William Denbrough! Do you know what time it is, young man?!”

Bill whipped around. Face hidden in shadow and standing in the doorway, towering over Bill, who was now sitting on the floor, was Sharon Denbrough.

Bill almost smiled in relief. “Muh-Mom! Oh th-thank guh-God! Luh-lobby!” he said.

Sharon frowned. “Bill, it’s two o’clock in the morning.”

“Look!”

Sharon sighed and walked towards the stairs. Bill trailed not far behind, stopping to pick up the hotel key lying in the middle of the hallway.

“Down there?” Sharon asked, pointing down. Bill nodded.

They walked down the stairs together, and at the turn Sharon sighed. "There's nothing there." And there really was nobody there. The man who'd gone up in flame had just vanished.

Bill didn’t sleep well that night.

The Denbroughs reached Hawkins that afternoon. The van was already waiting at the house. It was at the end of a cul-de-sac.

Bill had heavy bags under their eyes as they drove in. They got out of the car and walked inside the house tiredly. The movers began moving all the boxes into the house through the front door. The Denbroughs watched them, and Zack thanked them once they were done.

The rest of the afternoon was spent unpacking. Bill got a nice, big room with a bed already in there. There was a closet, and when Bill opened the door, he was met with the widest array of golf balls he had ever seen.

_ The hell? _

The golf balls were stuffed in cups, and there were at least fifty full ones. Bill looked at them again, and shrugged.

He began unpacking all his belongings. His toys, his books, his posters, his drawing paper. Once he was finished he stood back and admired his work.

The room was large, larger than his room in Derry. All his possessions, which made the room in Derry feel cozy and warm, felt small and inadequate in the large space of this new room. He shrugged again.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Bill knew both his parents were expecting him to get it, and he sighed, hurrying over to the door.

Bill opened the door to reveal a boy and a girl. The girl was holding a sealed tupperware container. The boy, looking fairly unenthusiastic, and remarkably like Richie, stepped forward and said, “Hi, um, welcome to Hawkins.”


	2. Beverly Marsh Makes a Move

_ Beverly Marsh never considered herself a very logical person. _

_ At age 23 she was still unmarried and childless, two things she never imagined herself being as an adult when she was a child. She’d always imagined Bill would come around, swoop her away, propose, and they’d be raising a beautiful family together before Bill was even out of college. _

_ But things didn’t happen this way. Bill was now a college graduate for nearly a year, and yet to make a move. But while Bev wasn’t logical in any sense of the word, she was incredibly patient. _

I can wait until we’re eighty.

_ That old romance with Bill that burned even more brightly in her childhood memories than the traumatic showdown they had with It, even as the romance slowly faded and they started referring to each other as “just friends” without hesitation. _

_ But just because they weren’t in love or married or dating didn’t mean Bev couldn’t still be in love with him, right? _

Oh Bill, please just let me have this. I don’t need you to reciprocate. Just let me love you.

_ And that was why even earlier that evening, when Bill arrived at the diner, Bev felt the familiar butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Those butterflies only beat their wings more furiously when Bill hugged her. _

It’s probably just because I’m a girl. He was always a bit chivalrous. I bet he does this to all the girls he meets. Yeah, this wasn’t special. To him, at least. I loved it.

_ And as she sat between him and Ben Hanscom, the man who seemed unable to take a hint, though she loved him all the same, she noticed Bill was completely silent during Richie’s entire story about the Japanese whaler he had become friends with. This was odd because Bill loved Richie’s stories and always had one of the loudest laughs of any of the Losers after hearing his stories. She turned and looked at him. His brow was creased and he looked rather ill. He had that pensive look on his face that was one of the main residents on Bill Denbrough’s face. _

_ “Bill?” she shook his arm. _

_ He jerked up, startled. “S-S-Sorry. Juh-Just…” _

_ “Lost in thought?” asked Bev knowingly. _

_ He favored her with a smile that got her stomach in knots again. _

_ They were both quiet in this exchange, but they weren’t subtle enough for Richie to not notice something was off. _

_ “Hey lovebirds, are you alright or is Bill constipated again?” he asked cheerfully, knowing full well that Bill had something interesting to say. _

_ Bill glared at him while Beverly laughed, but suddenly his face evolved into that pensive one again. _

_ “Richie,” he began. _

_ “That’s my name.” _ _  
_

_ “Wh-hat do y-you re-remember uh-about 1987?” _

_ “Um…It?” _

_ “Wh-hat else? Sch-hool?” _

_ Richie was silent for a moment, looking every bit as pensive as Bill. Eddie answered for him. “I don’t remember going to school, Bill. At least, not in the Fall.” _

_ Bill smiled. “Th-That’s r-right. S-S-Something’s off.” _

_ Ben leaned forward. “So what happened?” _

_ Richie suddenly jumped. “Reagan! Hawkins! Oh my God! Yowza!” he cried. _

_ Bill grinned triumphantly. _

_ Ben said, “I’m not following.” _

_ “Wuh-We ah-all f-f-forgot s-s-something i-important. Cuh-Collectively,” he said. _

_ He then went on with his story, with what he remembered so far. He remembered watching the broadcast of Reagan’s press conference, the crazy bike chase, his fight with his mom, the murder at the motel _ (hmm…I can use this as a title)_, and the strange boy who looked like Richie. _

_ As he told the story, their eyes all widened as memories held back by some mental floodgate suddenly broke free and flowed onto the banks of their brains. _

_ “Holy shit,” Bev breathed. _

_ “Yeah, ‘holy shit’ is right,” said Mike, just as awestruck. _

_ “Th-That’s all I-I can r-r-remember,” Bill said. “I n-need s-s-some help.” _

_ Bev leaned forward. “What the hell. This is… this is crazy!” Ben rubbed her arm. _

_ All eyes were on Bev now. She had that aura of someone about to speak, as if she suddenly borrowed some of Bill’s inexplicable power over them and was using it. _

_ “I just…I just remembered something,” she said. _

_ “Guh-Go on!” Bill encouraged. _

_ Bev wasn’t nearly as courageous as Bill. No, not even close. She didn’t want to bring these memories that she was sure had been repressed for a reason back to the surface. But Bill’s eager, hopeful face looking at hers was all she needed to get started. Perhaps it was the nostalgia of uncovering another mystery with the Losers’ Club, or just the thought of Bill needing her, that spurred her on. _

_ “Well,” she began, “I remember standing _

1

beside the other Losers, watching Bill leave in his station wagon. She felt a strange melancholy, as if he were leaving forever, and that she would never see him again. She scolded herself silently. She would see him in three days. Three days wasn’t forever.

Now that Bill was gone, Richie naturally acquired the emergency powers of leadership. Nobody questioned the move.

“C’mon guys,” he said, unusually grave, “Let’s boogie.”

The Losers returned to the Barrens. They gave little thought to the fact that the last time they’d been there was after fighting It, and that Bill would never be there again.

The Barrens had dried significantly since the summer, and the banks that had been their refuge were now dry and cracked. The current banks were once completely submerged.

The six stood by the dam Ben had built all those weeks ago, picking up stones by the bank and skipping them.

“God, remember when Bill had us start picking up rocks?” asked Eddie, feeling sentimental.

“And we met old Homeschool, here?” continued Richie, patting Mike on the arm, who snorted.

“And Bill went after Victor Criss and threatened to bash his head open?” finished Stan. They all sighed.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m gonna miss this. Not this place, just…this,” said Beverly, slightly embarrassed.

Richie gave her a serene smile. It was reminiscent of Bill’s, in some ways. Perhaps it was the way his eyes narrowed lazily, or just the aura of stress that came with leadership. “Yeah, ditto, Bev. Ditto.”

They spent the rest of the afternoon skipping stones and thinking of their childhoods.

2

“Oh, this is interesting.”

“What’s interesting?”

“Oh God.”

“Please don’t.”

“Sweet Jesus.”

_ “It’s an orc!” _ cried Mike Wheeler, slamming the piece down on the board.

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“We’re totally fine.”

There were four children seated in the Wheeler basement, partaking in the nerdiest game known to man: Dungeons and Dragons.

_ “Mike! Time for your friends to go home!” _

Mike sighed. “Alright, gotta go face the dragon.”

Lucas Sinclair said, “Good luck man.”

Mike ran up the stairs. Karen Wheeler was bustling around in the kitchen, preparing supper.

“Mom-”

“No, Mike. This one’s nonnegotiable. I have something important to tell you. After they leave,” said Karen firmly.

Mike sighed and tried again. “But Mom, plea-”

_ “Now!” _

Mike turned around and stomped back down to the basement, muttering the entire way. His friends were already packing up. He stopped at the foot of the stairs.

“Um…how did you know she said ‘No?’” he asked confusedly.

His friend, Dustin Henderson, walked up to him and patted him on the shoulder. “A talented general knows when a battle is lost, my friend,” he said, and walked up the stairs, leaving Mike’s face screwed with confusion.

Lucas and Will Byers walked by next, with Will saying, “Thanks for having us, Mike. And thanks for the campaign,” to which Mike nodded. He followed them up the stairs.

They all stood by the Wheelers’ garage, and Dustin, Lucas, and Will all mounted their bikes.

“Thanks for the sleepover, dude.”

“Yeah, and awesome campaign!”

“See ya, Mike.”

Mike waved at them as they all pulled out of the cul-de-sac, feeling the usual sense of dejection that manifested at the end of a playdate (he called it "hanging out" but he wasn’t fooling anyone).

He watched the clouds in the sky for a while. The wind was fast today, and the shapes he picked out only existed for a brief instance before fading into some other thing, like the continents on the Earth. He knew something profound was to be had in imagery such as this, but he did not know what. Perhaps he was mature for his age, but not enough so that he had any idea of what he was thinking at times.

Finally, after feeling like he had made his mom wait for long enough, he trudged back into the house, just as a chill began settling in the air. Mike walked in the door and noticed immediately that his sister, Nancy, was in the kitchen. She was never in the kitchen. He then noticed his mom was annoyed. Very annoyed.

“Oh, it’s so nice that you finally feel mature enough to join us, _ Michael._” Mike winced at that. “How was the tantrum?” He could see Nancy smirking at him from behind their mom. He seethed silently.

“It was fine, for something that didn’t exist,” said Mike, not wanting to back down. He knew immediately he had made a mistake when he saw Nancy’s eyes light up with glee and his mom’s nostrils flare. He waited for a moment, braced for impact, and visibly sagged in relief as his mom changed the subject.

“So, you remember President Reagan’s announcement, about the evacuation of Derry?” they both nodded. “Well today is September 15, and we have new neighbors,” she began.

Immediately, both Nancy’s and Mike’s eyes widened. “Which way?” they asked simultaneously.

Karen smirked, seeing her children finally interested. “Where Mr. McDougal used to live.”

Mike laughed. “Wasn’t he the nut who threw golf balls at everyone because he thought they were Nazis or something?”

Karen sighed. “Show some class, Mike.”

“Sorry.”

“Okay, so I want the two of you to go and welcome the neighbors. I saw they had a boy your age, Mike, and I think it would be good of you to at least try to be friendly with him. You know how lonely it can be for the new kid.”

Mike’s eyes narrowed. “And how friendly do you want me to be?”

“I was thinking maybe you could walk with him to school when it starts on Friday and-”

“Woah, woah. No way, Mom! Being friends with the new kid would totally mess up my reputation at school!” he exploded.

“What reputation?” Nancy snorted. Mike glared at her.

“Michael Wheeler, you are going to go over there with your sister. You are going to hand over these brownies I baked for them and ask the young man if he wants to walk with you to school tomorrow! Then you are going to show him everything he needs to know on the first day. That means walking with him in the halls, sitting with him at lunch, and being friendly with him! Heaven forbid I raised a cold-blooded child,” Mrs. Wheeler snapped.

Mike glared at her. “Is this another one of those ‘power plays’ I always hear you talking to Dad about?”

Mrs. Wheeler sputtered. _ “Wha?-no! _Now do as I say!”

Grumbling, Mike stormed out of the house, with Nancy chasing after him, brownies in hand. “Slow down, dingus!” she said. “You would’ve forgotten the brownies if I didn’t remember.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let’s get this over with,” he muttered.

He stomped over to the house on their left. It looked almost identical to theirs, except with a slightly warmer shade of cream for their paint. Nice. Mike could see why his mother’s desire to one-up them had manifested so quickly.

He punched the doorbell, and waited impatiently, his foot tip-tapping against the stones of the entrance.

A young, terribly skinny boy, taller than Mike but likely his age, answered the door.

Mike stepped forward, and said, rather lethargically, “Hi, um, welcome to Hawkins.”

The boy looked at him curiously. “Huh-Hi. I’m b-Bill d-deh-Denbrough.”

When Mike said nothing more, Nancy slapped him on the arm. He turned around and glared at her, then turned back around. “Hi, I’m Mike. This is Nancy. Our mother baked your family brownies to welcome you to our splendid town. Would you like to walk with me to school on Monday, September 21, in the year of our Lord one thousand, nine hundred, eighty seven?”

Mike had no idea why he was being so mean to the guy—_Bill_. Well he did have an idea, just an inkling, but he knew it was wrong to take his anger out on Bill. And Bill seemed to think so too, as he raised an eyebrow coolly, as if knowing exactly what Mike was thinking. Suddenly Mike felt ashamed.

“Sorry. I’m just-I’m not in a good mood right now and I’m taking it out on you. And I shouldn’t’ve. Just…let me start again. Nice to meet you Bill. I’m Mike.” He extended a hand to Bill, who grasped and shook it. Bill seemed the type to forgive easily.

“I-It’s okay,” he said, smiling.

Nancy moved forward, both annoyed and impressed by her little brother. “Pleasure to meet you, Bill. I’m Nancy, as you’ve just heard from Mike. Here are some brownies our mom baked for you. She wanted you to feel welcome here. We know how overwhelming moving can be.” 

Bill took it in his hands. “Th-Thanks.”

Mike stepped forward again. “So, uh, I know you probably have friends from Derry-you’re from Derry, right?” Bill nodded. “Okay well, in case you ever, um, need anyone, I’m…here?” Now the conversation was getting increasingly awkward, as both Mike and Bill seemed to be at a total loss of words.

Nancy stepped forward. “What Mike is trying to say is that he would be happy to show you around school and such, and he would also like to bike to school with you, if you have one.”

Mike, refusing to be outshone by his sister, stepped forward, as Bill nodded. “And you could sit with me and my friends too. I guess you probably have friends from Derry but you guys can all sit with us and stuff. But if you’re looking to be popular, maybe don’t do that. I think sitting with me and my friends is basically social suicide.”

Mike finally took in his surroundings, and was surprised to find he was no longer at the front steps of the house. No, both he and Nancy were in the house, past the front door, a result of them taking too many steps forward.

Bill grinned. “I-I’d like th-th-that.”

3

Beverly laughed as Bill recounted his story.

“So he _ ha! _ so he said, ‘year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred eighty seven?’” she laughed, twirling the phone around in her hands.

She heard Bill chuckle on the other end. “Y-Yeah. He wuh-was a b-bit of a d-dick but h-he uh-uh-uh-”

“Apologized?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm. I’ll have to see for myself, Bill. I dunno how I’d feel about him walking us around school.”

“Juh-Just imagine h-h-him as r-Richie.”

Beverly snorted. “And you said he’s basically Richie with no glasses and less outlandish fashion choices?”

She could hear his smile. “Mhmm.”

“Beverly, time to go to bed, sweetheart!” Martha called from the bathroom.

Beverly sighed, and heard Bill do the same on the other end. “Sorry Bill, but the Sandman calls.”

Bill chuckled. “I-It wuh-was guh-good t-t-talking to y-you. I-I’m so b-bored.”

Beverly groaned. “How do you think I feel? I only have Stan the Man and Trashmouth for company right now!”

“Y-You’ll be huh-here soon,” Bill said.

“Yeah, I know. I miss you, y’know?” said Beverly, feeling her face heat up. It was not easy revealing even that much about herself. Bill better at least make it even.

“Muh-Miss y-you too, Bev. I-I’m th-thinking uh-about y-you con-con-con-”

“Constantly?” Beverly asked hopefully.

“Yeah.” Bill’s voice sounded a bit strained.

Beverly closed her eyes as happiness she didn’t know she was capable of feeling washed over her in waves that left her feeling rather drunk. She giggled at her sappiness. _ God I’m such a girl. _

“Buh-Bev?” Bill asked timidly. He was afraid he’d scared her off.

“Yeah… I’m here. I’m here. I’m just… wow. That, uh, made my kind of emotional. Sorry about that.” _ Why the fuck did I just tell him that? _“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you the day after tomorrow, then?”

“Yuh-Yeah. Remember: luh-library,” said Bill, still sounding a bit funny.

“Got it. You’ll show me around, then?” asked Beverly eagerly.

“Yuh-yeah.”

“Goodnight, Bill. See ya soon.”

“Good-Goodnight. Luh-Love you.”

Bill had hung up before she could even get her jaw off the floor. Then she let out a massive _ whoop! _and thrust her fist in the air.

Saying “I love you” between the Losers was not an uncommon thing, for her at least. The other boys called each other “faggots” and laughed when they said that to each other, no matter how true the statement, but they did constantly let Beverly know how much they loved her. Even Richie. But Bill’s declarations were always the best. They made her feel incredible.

_ It was probably only platonic, Beverly. _

But she couldn’t bring herself to care.

4

The next day, Mike Hanlon, Ben Hanscom, and Eddie Kaspbrak moved in. None of them lived terribly close to Bill, but that didn’t matter to them. They didn’t live close to each other back in Derry, either, and Hawkins was smaller than Derry. They all met at the library, much to Ben’s delight, as it was the only landmark all of them seemed to know.

“Okay s-s-so Bev is cuh-homing tomorrow, and r-Richie and s-s-Stan two days a-a-after th-that.” Bill clarified.

“I think so,” said Mike.

“Yep,” said Ben.

“Al-Al-Alright, l-let’s ex-explore.”

They walked out of the library and grabbed their bikes. They were in the financial district. They saw a paper in the window as they passed Melvard’s General Store advertising “Starcourt Mall: Beginning Construction.”

“Woah! They’re gonna get a mall!” exclaimed Mike.

“Wuh-We’re guh-gonna get a m-mall,” Bill corrected.

“Guys, sorry to burst your bubble here, but I really don’t think we should go to the mall when it opens. I mean, the mall is a massive pit of bacteria. Did you know there’s almost no way to filter the air out of a mall, meaning you’re continuously breathing in—Guh-Guys? Guys! Wait up!”

They biked to the “Palace Arcade.” The four boys looked at each other, and Bill shrugged. They set their bikes down on the rack and walked in.

The roar of children’s voices filled their ears as they looked around. Eddie took a puff of his aspirator. _ “Eds blasts off!” _ he could hear Richie say.

Bill walked up to the only guy available with a nametag. It read “Keith.”

“S-S-S-Sorry, buh-but do y-you have s-s-Street f-Fighter?” he yelled. He was doing this for Richie.

Keith smirked while grabbing a plate with a slice of pizza on it off the customer service podium. “Sorry, squirt. This place is pretty kid-friendly. Nothing preteen available here.”

“Oh.”

They walked out of the arcade.

“Wait until Richie gets a load of this!” Ben exclaimed gleefully.

Bill laughed.

They biked out of the financial district and into a more residential neighborhood. It was very suburban, even more so than Derry. Bill didn’t know what to make of it.

They passed by this massive wood, about a mile from Bill’s house. “Luh-Let’s ch-ch-check i-it out,” he said.

They biked in and found train tracks. Freight, perhaps? They followed the tracks and found the forest to be massive. They biked out a bit farther and found a quarry, with what was practically a sheer cliff. The boys stood on the edge and looked down.

“I don’t think we’d survive that fall,” Ben said, nervously.

Bill nodded.

“Luh-Let’s guh-go home guys. The s-sun’s f-f-falling. Wh-Where sh-shall w-w-we m-meet tomorrow?”

“So you’re telling me that your mom wants us to befriend this _ Bill_? And he _ stutters_?” Dustin asked incredulously.

Mike winced. “Yeah. Honestly though, I think he’s alright. He seemed pretty cool from when we talked.”

Dustin grinned. “Cool.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were against this motion?”

“I mean, it’s kind of lame, but remember: adults are-”

“-human Chinese finger traps,” the other three finished.

They were once again in Mike’s basement, finishing Mike’s campaign. Mike had just let them know about his mom’s idea.

“Honestly, I think this is kind of cool. If he’s as nice as you say, I think we’d like him,” said Will.

Lucas groaned. “Not like we have a choice. Every time adults say something, they expect us to scribble it down like it’s one of the ten amendments or-”

“Commandments,” Dustin coughed.

Lucas looked at him weirdly. “What?”

“It’s ‘the Ten Commandments,’ not ‘the ten amendments,’” Dustin explained.

Lucas smiled sarcastically. “Okay. Thank you. _ Dustin_,” he hissed.

“Hey calm down buddy m’just doing my job.”

“Okay guys! So are we cool with this? I’m going to ride to school with him, which means Lucas will ride to school by himself. Then I will walk him and his friends around school, by myself, and we’ll all sit together at lunch?” asked Mike loudly.

Dustin, Lucas, and Will looked at each other, and then turned to Mike.

“Yeah.”

“Sure.”

“Cool.”

Mike sighed in relief. “Alright. Motion passed.”

5

On Beverly’s moving day, she felt a bittersweet sort of excitement. She had craved for so long to see Bill, Ben, Mike, and Eddie, but now she had to say goodbye to Richie and Stan.

Stan had been very practical about the whole thing. “I dunno why you all make it such a big deal. We are seeing each other in a few days. We’ve been apart longer.”

Richie, who had been so serious for the past few days, hugged her as she was about to get into Martha’s car. “You be good, Bev. I know you want to get away from me, but just give me one more hug, alright?”

Beverly had tears in her eyes as she squeezed him, hard. She felt so stupid for feeling like this, so emotional, so _ girly_, but this was Richie. She didn’t need to hide herself from him of all people. He might laugh and joke about it, but he was safe.

She pulled back so she could look into his face. “You be good too, Richie. I don’t want you to cuh-come to Hawkins a father.”

Richie giggled. “Oh you know me: absolute girl magnet. I might have to tell Eddie he has a sibling coming soon, though.”

Beverly giggled as well. “Just so you know: I do have a box of pads in the moving van with ‘I love Mrs. K.’ on it.”

“I'm telling ya: those'll be in a museum someday.” Richie said, laughing.

Beverly finally got in the car. Richie held the door. “I’ll see you soon, alright? Give Bill a kiss for me, won’t ya?” He closed the door for her before she could get a retort out. She could hear him laughing from outside.

“So is that the Tozier boy?” asked Martha, eyeing Richie with a faint hint of disapproval.

Beverly sobered, sensing her dislike. “Yeah. He’s a sweetheart. Honest. He just doesn’t know when to shut up sometimes.”

“Hmm.”

They drove out of Derry with Richie and Stan following along with their bikes. They gave up quite quickly, as Martha was fast. Beverly turned around and saw them both standing on their bikes, waving. She waved back. They drove down to New Hampshire quickly. Martha was an insane driver, weaving through lanes like they were nothing, and Beverly screamed multiple times.

“Martha, car! There’s a car! Oh my God!”

“Oh, that’s nothing dear. You ever heard of Chubby Checker? Now _ that’s _ something.”

And the car ride continued like so, with Beverly unable to sleep thinking the last thing she saw before closing her eyes would be the last thing she ever saw.

“Martha. Martha! Oh God! You ran over that poor thing!”

“Y’know that song ‘Let’s Twist Again?’ That one hit me like a train!”

Finally they stopped at a gas station in Cleveland. They left in the early morning to beat the flow and it was only noon.

Martha strolled out of the car leisurely. “Go on, Bevvie dear. Go buy something for yourself. And make sure you use the restroom!”

Beverly got out of the car stiffly, knees wobbly. _ I’m gonna be sick. _

She walked over to the store beside the gas station as Martha cranked open the gas tank door. She walked down the aisles and grabbed a bag of Cheetos. She could imagine Richie saying, _ “You are what you eat, Bev! You’re orange and a vegetable!” _ and snorted. The man beside her gave her a strange look.

She paid at the kiosk and threw the bag onto her seat. She walked over to the restroom.

_ Oh this is disgusting, _ she thought as she looked in. But duty calls.

After finishing without gagging (she was rather proud of herself for that) she walked back to the car. Martha was whistling a tune cheerfully. Beverly had _ absolutely _no idea who it was by.

“All ready, dear?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“Alright. You wait in the car. Let me just slide my card.”

As she waited, Beverly was struck by a sudden thought. It was only noon, and they’d only been driving for six hours. And they were halfway there, meaning… 

Martha slid into the driver’s seat. “Fasten your seatbelt, dear.”

Beverly did as she was told. “Martha?” she asked.

“Hmm?”

“Are we getting to Hawkins today?”

“Why, yes. Wasn’t that always the plan?”

Beverly didn’t answer as her heart soared.

6

“Oh-Okay, I-I just n-need another nuh-notebook…” said Bill vaguely as they walked around in Melvard’s General Store in the early morning.

“Bill, why do you need so many notebooks?” asked Eddie impatiently.

“School s-s-starts s-soon,” said Bill shortly.

“Uh huh, and so that’s why you’re buying two packs of crayons, a new sketchbook, and three notebooks? Oh, and a Moleskine?” asked Mike, eyebrow raised.

“C’mon Bill, we’ve been here for half an hour!” cried Ben, exasperated.

“Al-Alright, I’m duh-done. Le-Lemme puh-pay. Jeez!” exclaimed Bill.

He walked up to the desk, where one Joyce Byers greeted him with a kind smile. “Hello dear, are you from Derry?” she asked.

Bill nodded. “Yup.”

“Well I hope you meet my son, Will, soon; he’s probably around your age. Are you twelve?” Bill nodded again. “Well I can ask him if you need someone to show you and your friends around,” she offered.

Bill grinned and said, “Th-Thanks for the aw-offer Mrs.-” he squints at her nametag “-Byers. Buh-But muh-Mike wuh-Wheeler i-is al-already sh-sh-showing muh-me ‘round.”

Mrs. Byers’ smile widened. “Oh so you’ve met Mike! He’s a good friend of Will’s. I hope I’ll see you again soon!” She waved as he thanked her and left the store with his friends to go to the library.

“So who was that?” asked Mike from beside Bill, who was shoving his new possessions in his backpack.

Bill shrugged. “A muh-mom. Wuh-Wanted me to m-meet her s-son.”

Ben waddled along to the front of their group. “I think it would be cool to get some friends on the inside y’know?”

Bill grinned. “Duh-Didn’t nuh-know y-you were s-such a p-p-p-”

“What is it Bill? Spit it out!” said Ben.

“Pirate?” Mike guessed.

“Penis?” That was Eddie.

“Politician?” tried Ben. He was correct, but would never know that.

But Bill just stopped sputtering and pointed forward. And standing there before them, clad in her overalls and Keds, was Beverly Marsh.

“Bev!” cried Bill as he ran forward and pulled her in a hug. The other three weren’t far behind him.

Beverly laughed as she felt the familiar butterflies make themselves known. “Yeah, I missed you too, Bill.”

“I hope you weren’t trying to be alone with Bill this morning, Bev, ‘cause we’re not gonna let that happen,” said Mike, grinning.

“Oh come here you guys.”

They all stood together in a large huddle. All the passers by threw them dirty looks for hogging the entire sidewalk, but none of them minded. They were all soaking in each others’ company.

Beverly felt happier than she had in awhile. _ Now we just need Richie and Stan. _

Bill pulled back from the group embrace. “I th-thought y-you were guh-getting here t-tonight?”

Beverly laughed. “Oh, I thought so too. But Martha is an absolute speed demon. We nearly died a hundred times on the way here but she managed to get us here in a single day.”

Bill stared at her in disbelief, and then laughed. Then they all started laughing at the absurdity of everything.

They were out here, in the middle of nowhere, because the first adult in the history of the United States noticed something had gone wrong in Derry. And they couldn’t have been happier.

After calming down, Bill asked, “Bev, guh-got y-your bike?” She shook her head. “Al-Alright, c’mon.”

And now Beverly was riding double with Bill, her head pressed against his back and her arms around his waist, admiring the feel of his abdomen contracting and expanding with effort.

Mike, Eddie, and Ben rode beside them, with Ben occasionally heaving great sighs of discontent.

They wanted to show her the quarry. They rode through the forest known as Mirkwood by Mike Wheeler and company, though the Losers had yet to know that. They followed the tracks and finally saw a train pass by. It was cargo, just as Bill had suspected. They continued onto the road that wrapped around the cliff side. They stopped their bikes. Beverly dismounted rather unwillingly.

They walked to the edge. She looked down and gulped. “Yeah, I’m not gonna jump off this one.”

Bill grinned. “Yuh-You’re guh-gonna be a s-s-sissie?” he asked teasingly.

“If that means I stay alive, yeah,” she retorted, grinning. Then she looked at the others. “Is this all you’ve seen?”

The boys looked at each other. “Just about, yeah,” said Mike. “We went to the arcade to check if they had Street Fighter for Richie but they didn’t have it.”

Beverly guffawed. “I can’t wait to see Richie’s reaction.”

7

Richie’s reaction was less than graceful when he and Stan arrived two days later.

“What do you mean you don’t have Street Fighter?” he asked angrily.

“That’s exactly what I mean, kiddo. If you don’t like kiddie stuff then you should just go. We don’t have much for you ‘preteens’ here at the Palace Arcade,” said Keith lazily.

“Richie, we should go,” said Eddie nervously as the other Losers gathered around Richie to try to calm him down.

“No! I’m gonna stand up for my rights! I mean what is this, China? So poor you don’t even have Street Fighter? What the fuck?” Richie cried.

“S-Sorry uh-about th-this,” Bill yelled at Keith as he dragged Richie out by an arm.

“Oh I should be thanking you squirts. I haven’t had this much fun since the field trip to the drug store,” laughed Keith as he watched Richie struggle in Bill’s arms.

“Dude, what the hell?” Richie cried when they were on the street.

“Yeah, okay Richie. You’re overreacting,” said Eddie, embarrassed.

“Guys luh-let’s go b-back to muh-my house. My puh-parents aren’t huh-home,” said Bill, and they all agreed. They grabbed their bikes from outside the arcade and rode in silence broken only by Richie’s muttering.

The ride only took about five minutes, and when they arrived in the cul-de-sac, Bill stopped. They all stopped beside him.

“What’s up, Bill?” Ben asked curiously.

Bill looked at the house beside his, and saw Mike Wheeler standing outside. _ Time for introductions. _

He started riding forward again, and his friends followed. Mike Wheeler turned and his eyes widened. _ Oh, here we go. _

Bill and the Losers stopped again, this time within speaking range. Richie rode forward, and he gave Wheeler and once over, and vice versa.

_ “What the fuck?” _

“Oh-okay. Luh-Let’s i-intro-duce ourselves,” said Bill calmly. “I’m buh-Bill.”

“What is this, preschool? Lift up your sleeve, hot stuff. Let me see if we have the same birthmark,” said the kid who looked like him.

“That’s not how twins work,” Mike snapped. “And I’m Mike Wheeler.”

They went around in a circle introducing themselves, ending with the twin. “Richie Tozier’s my name and Mrs. K’s my game. I do imitations. Any voice. Bugs Bunny? Ya got him. Tom Hanks? Don’t even have to ask. Chairman Mao? Well, I gotta learn Chinese first but I’ll get there. Just a nickel a pop. Why don’t ya try me?” said Richie, arms spread impressively. Bill snorted, and Richie whipped around to glare at him.

“Uh huh…” said Mike. “And you said your last name’s Tozier? Not Wheeler?”

“Last time I checked,” said Richie.

“Hmm.” Mike looked around at the other kids. That black kid’s name was also Mike. That was going to get confusing. Ben was the big one, and Eddie was the one with the inhaler. Stan had the yarmulke. He knew Bill already and Beverly wouldn’t be hard to remember, being the only girl. She was pretty. Very pretty. But Mike saw how closely she and Bill stood together and understood immediately.

_ Nothing to be gained there. _

“So, um,” he began, “I’m sure Bill’s told you about my proposition, right? About tomorrow?”

They all nodded.

“And so what do you guys think?” Mike had no idea why he was so nervous about this. _ Why am I so afraid of their rejection? _

Bill looked at the Losers’ club. They, aside from Mike Hanlon, who was going to be homeschooled, all seemed to exist on varying degrees of “meh” but were waiting for his verdict. Whatever Big Bill wanted, they’d have. So he made the decision. “Sh-Sure, Wheeler.”

Mike grinned. “Excellent.”

8

Mike groaned as he woke. He glanced at his clock. It read, “7:00.” _ Dammit. _

He felt absolutely dreadful this morning, and he had no idea why. Oh, it was because it was the first day of school. That was why he was feeling so unnaturally lethargic.

He rolled out of bed and onto the floor, giving a feeble groan of pain when he landed. He got up slowly and got changed. Outside his bedroom door he could hear his sister bustling and getting ready, sounding more like a thunderstorm than a teenage girl.

He walked over to the lower floor bathroom, knowing Nancy would take an incredibly long time above. He brushed his teeth and tried to comb his hair into something resembling a hairstyle. He had no success.

Walking over to the breakfast table, and ruffling Baby Holly’s hair, he glanced at the clock. “7:21.” He had around ten minutes before having to meet outside with Bill.

“This was really good, Mom!” Mike said as he got up from the table, unable to remember for the life of him what he had just eaten.

“I’m glad you liked it, Mike. You got your things?” Mike nodded. “Alright, and you have five minutes before you have to meet Bill. By the way I’m so proud of you for being so kind to him. It isn’t easy, reaching out, and I’m glad you were able to do it, Sweetie.

“Now let’s take a few pictures to remember your first day of seventh grade. I know you don’t like taking pictures but—Mike? Mike?”

“Yuh-You’re here early,” said Bill.

“Yeah. So are you,” deflected Mike pointedly.

“I suh-suppose. Luh-Let’s go.”

They mounted their bikes and began to ride.

Mike always biked to school with Lucas. It was their tradition ever since the third grade. This felt rather foreign, but _ I can do this. Why do I have to be nervous around Bill, anyway? _

“So, um, what d’ya like to do?” he asked Bill beside him. This was something his mom taught him, called “starting a conversation,” something he was rather terrible at.

“Yuh-You wuh-want me to be cuh-completely honest?” Bill asked slyly.

“Sure…” Mike had no idea what this was about.

“Ch-Try to kuh-keep up!”

And Bill was flying down the road with Silver, leaving Mike behind with his mouth hanging open. Then Mike grinned, and began to pedal faster.

He caught up to Bill, and they were now easily going over twenty. Bill seemed unfazed, even as they entered the financial district. Mike felt nervous, but he wasn’t going to be chicken to a newcomer. He grit his teeth.

_ “Woah, oh my God!” _ Mike yelled as he nearly hit a parked car while trying to swerve away from traffic. Bill laughed from beside him.

“Hi yo Silver!” Bill cried.

_ “What?” _ Mike screamed.

“Believe!” said Bill. “Believe yuh-you’ll be okay!”

_ What is this Disney shit? _ But Mike tried to believe all the same, and realized, much to his chagrin, nothing changed from his newfound belief, as he was nearly hit by another car.

_ “Ahhhhh!” _

“So, Bill should almost be here soon, yeah?” asked Beverly.

“Well he should be. School’s starting in seven minutes,” said Eddie.

It was odd standing out in the schoolyard of a school they’d never seen before being surrounded by many children they knew. Greta Bowie and her cronies were hanging around the garbage can, smoking cigarettes. But Henry Bowers was nowhere to be seen.

“So where do you think Bowers is?” asked Ben nervously.

“If you ask me the school probably took a look at Bowers’ record and took the hint and shipped him off to the loony bin,” said Richie derisively.

“Sure hope so,” said Eddie.

“So what’s our first class?” asked Ben.

“Science,” said Eddie, at the same time as Richie, who said,

“Math.”

“Wait a minute,” said Richie. “Who here has science with…Mr. Clarke?” Everyone raised their hands. “Shit.”

Just then they heard, at the same time, far off in the distance, a “Whoo!” and a “Holy shit!” The Losers and a few other students who’d heard the noise turned around to witness Bill Denbrough riding his enormous bike, Silver, as his friends knew, and Mike Wheeler, riding his small, low-seated one. They were easily going over twenty miles per hour in the drop-off zone. Bill weaved through the cars skillfully, occasionally looking behind him to make sure his companion, who was white as a sheet, wasn’t dead.

They both braked directly in front of the Losers, with Bill breathing heavily but grinning, and Mike shaking.

“Yowza, what an entrance, Big Bill! On the first day of school too? You’ll be one of the popular kids in no time!” said Richie.

Bill laughed. He turned to Mike. “Suh-So wuh-Wheeler. Wuh-Was th-that answer e-enough?”

Mike stood unsteadily but composed himself. “Oh, what, that? Easy! That was nothing! Give me a real answer!”

Bill snorted. “Al-Alright then.”

Henry Bowers walked through the halls of Hawkins High, and felt an odd sense of sadness. Here he was, in high school, a place he was supposed to be in three years ago but could never make it, without his friends. He wasn’t sure he wanted to do it. No he was really sure he didn’t want to do it, especially without Belch and Victor, but the Moon Man told him to.

_ They’ll come after us both if you don’t go, flower boy. Plus, it’ll be the only opportunity you’ll ever have to attend high school. Seize it. For Me! _

And so here he was, with a backpack slung over his shoulder, with actual books in it, ready to project this persona so he would be able to continue his real mission.

_ The Moon Man doesn’t do halfsies. Go all the way or there’s hell to pay! _

9

“Class, today we have some very special additions to our curiosity voyage! They hail from Derry, Maine, and I hope you give them all a warm welcome,” said Mr. Clarke excitedly. “Why don’t you all introduce yourselves?”

Bill stepped up first. _ Shit. Just. Breathe. Be like Richie. _ “Hi. I-I’m buh-Bill.” _ Not too bad. _

“Welcome, Bill. Why don’t you sit behind Anthony, here?”

Beverly was next. “I’m Beverly.”

Ben said, “I’m Ben. I hope to learn a lot in this class!” Bill groaned. _ Nice going, Haystack. Now all the bullies are going to be after you. _

Stan just said, “Stan.”

Eddie said, “My name is Eddie and can I please have a seat that’s farther away from the vents? I know they can build up a lot of-”

“Yes, Eddie. Why don’t you sit behind Dustin, here?”

Bill groaned again.

Meanwhile, in Mrs. McFarlane’s math class, Richie stood before the class to give a similar introduction. But Richie wasn’t one to go by the rules.

“Richie Tozier’s the name and doing voices is my game. I can do any voice ya want. Darth Vader? Ya got him. Donald Duck? Don’t even have to ask. Adolf Hitler?-”

“Okay, thank you, Richie! Now I want all of you to be friendly and welcoming to him, yes? Richie, why don’t you sit behind Troy, here?”

After Richie sat, and the next student from Derry began introducing herself, Troy immediately turned around. “Hey, Tozier, right?”

Richie looked at him. _ He even sounds like a jackass. _ “That’s right.”

“You’re pretty funny,” said Troy, “for a Frogface. Are you and Wheeler related?” He turned to the big kid beside him, who guffawed stupidly.

“Hey, kid, I like your laugh,” Richie whispered to the big kid.

“Huh?” he asked. Troy looked confused as well. This wasn’t how these usually went.

“It reminds me a bit of how Troy’s mother sounded when I was on top of her last night,” Richie followed up. _ Eh, that was weak. Not very chuckalicious. But look! He’s turning purple! Stupid bitch. _

“The hell did you just say about my mo-?” Troy began angrily, but he was too loud.

“Troy! Do you have something to share with the class?” Mrs. McFarlane asked, her nostrils flaring.

“No, Mrs. McFarlane,” said Troy sullenly.

“Good. Don’t interrupt again.”

Troy turned towards Richie, who was grinning with glee. “You’re dead, new kid. Dead.”

Richie raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Am I supposed to be afraid of little ol’ you?”

Troy grinned. It reminded Richie of a dog. “Oh, I’m not the one you should be worried about.”

The big kid cracks his knuckles menacingly. _ Right. _

“This isn’t how you talk to your stepfather, Troy. Show some respect,” whispered Richie. Troy flushed his ugly puce color again.

“Dead.”

“Hey new kid! Yoo hoo! Derry boy! Yeah, I’m talking to you. Yeah, so, here in Hawkins, we have a little tradition. New kid’s gotta buy lunch for the king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington!” a large boy said to Henry as he walked along the halls. Henry noticed how the other kids seemed to flee.

A skinnier kid ran up beside the big one. “Tommy, fuck off. New kid, that ain’t true. You don’t have to buy me anything. Now get outta here.” Henry assumed this was the so-called king of Hawkins High.

“Wasn’t planning to,” Henry rasped. He turned and started walking away. A hand grabbed his shoulder roughly.

“The fuck did you just say, freak?” This was Tommy.

“Let go of me,” Henry said quietly.

“Yeah, yeah, nice cover, freak. I bet you like my hand on your shoulder. Gives you a hard-on, eh? Fucking faggot,” Tommy spat.

“Tommy, stop,” said Steve.

Henry’s hand reached down for his pocket.

_ No. Don’t. You’ll blow our cover. Watch this, flower boy. _

“Now listen here, freak. You’re gonna do what I say, no matter what. Only reason you’re not buying lunch for King Steve here is ‘cause he saw how poor you are and felt bad! Now you’re gonna-”

Suddenly Tommy screamed. The hand that was firmly grasping Henry’s shoulder was now covered in boils. It was steaming. “Oh, God! Jesus Christ! What did you do?” Tommy cried in fear, falling over on his butt.

Henry started walking up to Tommy, who backed away using his good hand. Eventually he was backed to the lockers. Henry squatted down until he was almost eye level with Tommy.

“No, you’re gonna listen here, you fucking pansy,” Henry said, “You’re gonna stay out of my way no matter what I do. I don’t care if I’m killing your parents or your pretty little sister _ (how did I know he had a sister?). _ You’re gonna stay outta my way.” Tommy was crying now. “Got it?”

Tommy didn’t respond.

_ “I said, ‘Got it?’” _

“Yes! Now get the fuck away from me!” Tommy cried.

Henry, got up, satisfied, looking down at the crying Tommy. He turned towards Steve. “This didn’t happen, yeah? Dummy up.”

Steve nodded hurriedly. Henry snorted. “Some king you are.” He walked away.

_ Oh, very nice, flower boy. You’re learning quick. _

_ I’m learning from the best, Moon Man. _

10

“So, uh, you guys like _ X-Men_?” asked Dustin awkwardly. He was sitting at his usual spot with Mike, Lucas, and Will. What was unusual about this particular lunch was that they were now accompanied by the Losers’ Club.

“Uh…yeah, I guess,” said Eddie.

Everyone else was sitting silently. After introductions, almost nobody said anything.

_ This is so boring, _ thought Richie dully. _ Let’s start an interesting conversation. _

“How do you guys live without Street Fighter?” he asked abruptly.

Will looked at him curiously. “What?”

Richie rolled his eyes. “Y’know, Street Fighter! Only the greatest arcade game ever created? Does that ring a bell?”

Will shook his head. “Nope. We play stuff like Dig Dug at the Palace.”

Richie shook his head while laughing. He turned to Mike. “Man, oh man, my beautiful twin. You have much to learn.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mike asked defensively.

“Hey, four-eyes!”

Richie groaned. “Oh, great. The circus has arrived.”

Mike looked at the approaching bullies and sighed. “You’ve met Troy?”

Richie nodded. “Boy, did I! I told him I fucked his Mom.” Will turned a bright red at this, while Dustin laughed.

“Nice one!”

Bill scowled. “Beep beep Richie. It’s juh-just the f-first day!” he scolded.

“He called me ‘frogface!’”

“Hey, four-eyes! I’m talking to you!”

Richie turned around and grinned sunnily. He noticed the entire cafeteria was staring at them. _ Time to put on a show. _

“Top of the mornin’ to ya, lad! What are ye and yer foine friend doin’ here?” he said loudly in his Irish cop voice. Beside him he heard Ben whisper, impressed,

“Wow, he actually used the phrase at the top of the morning this time!”

_ Thanks for the support, Haystack. _

Troy stopped. “What?”

“What are ye, deaf? Oi asked what ye and yer foine friend be doin’ here!” said Richie. The big kid was looking at him dully, scratching his head. Richie was starting to enjoy this now.

“Remember what I said during math, freakazoid? That I was gonna kill you?” Troy sneered, overcoming the initial confusion.

“Oh yes, kind sir.” He was doing his Toodles the Butler voice now.

“Well here ya go! James!”

Richie didn’t notice the big kid, James, holding a plate of that disgusting mush they called lunch. Said plate was flying through the air towards Richie’s face, guided by James’ hand.

_ Shit. _

But while Richie didn’t notice, Mike did. He rushed towards Richie and pushed James’ hand up at the last second, sending the plate flying in the air, and right onto Eddie’s head.

There was silence for a moment, and then Eddie screamed, _ “Eat shit!” _

And then he threw his food towards James, and it landed on his shirt, leaving a brown stain.

Bill threw his plate at Troy, who managed to dodge it at the last moment. Troy grabbed the back of James’ shirt to pull him back from the inevitable consecutive fire.

Dustin, now grinning widely, threw his and Will’s at the same time. The people sitting on the side closer to Troy and James got up and climbed over the table in a hurry, sensing what was about to come.

Troy and James ducked behind a table two rows down, and grabbed the food on the table, disregarding the protests from the people already sitting there.

“FOOD FIGHT!” Richie screamed, ducking as Troy’s plate flew through where his head had been just moments before. The entire cafeteria erupted in chaos.

Bill and Ben flipped their table on its side and the Losers and the Party ducked behind it, grabbing ammunition from the next table up.

Throughout the cafeteria, chaos reigned. Kids were either running from it all, fearing staining their clothing, or throwing food at Troy and James as well. It wasn’t everyday they had an opportunity to stand up to them anonymously.

Beverly was laughing, as was Bill. Ben and Stan looked terribly concerned for their clothes, while Richie was occasionally shoving his head above the trench and lobbing a plate of mystery meat over to the other side.

But it was Eddie who went insane. Grabbing as many plates as he could carry, he jumped over the table and into no-man’s land.

“Lawks-a-mussy! Eds blasts off! And he—_Oh shit! Kamikaze!"_ cried Richie.

Kamikaze indeed, as Eddie charged through no-man’s land, ignoring the food thrown at him from friend or increasingly desperate foe, as his mind singled out one single objective: destroy Troy.

He leaned over the table behind which Troy and James took refuge, and dropped his payload.

_ “Ah shit! What the hell?” _

Richie yelped with laughter as he heard Troy’s scream. “Atta boy, Eds!” he yelled.

Eddie ran back over to their side, smelling like the cafeteria lunch and not looking much better. “We gotta go,” he gasped, “I can’t be caught. My mom’ll have a fit if she hears what happened!”

Bill glanced at the cafeteria doors and noticed the teachers beginning to pour in. He nodded and got up, and turned to help Beverly up. “Al-Alright. S-S-School’s out.”

Henry watched in his car as the Losers hurry out of Hawkins Middle School.

_ No. Wait. _

He watched as they all got on their bikes and he suddenly realized there were more than the usual seven. There were four others.

_ Interesting. _

11

As Eddie showered in Bill’s bathroom, the Losers and the Party sat in the Denbrough living room, recounting the past few hours.

“And then Eds fucking blasts off!” cried Richie hysterically, and they all laughed again.

Eddie emerged a few minutes later, wearing one of Bill’s shirts and shorts. Both were too big.

“Aw, Eds,” said Richie, running up to Eddie and pinching his cheeks, “Cute, cute, cute!”

Eddie slapped his hand away. “Don’t call me Eds.”

“Ah-Are th-they staying o-on, at l-least?” asked Bill.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Do you use the drying machine?” Bill nodded.

Eddie gasped. “Bill! Did you know those things are infested with germs? And I mean swarming!”

“Alright, alright, Eddie Spaghetti. Cut that out. We don’t wanna hear any more of that. Big Bill lent you his clothing and the least you could do is be grateful,” said Richie.

“I am grateful! I’m just saying-”

“Yeah, that’s enough of that. Y’know what I’m grateful for? I’m grateful for the opportunity to instill these valuable life lessons in my stepson.”

“Shut up, dude.”

“Y’know what, Tozier?”

“What’s that, Wheeler?”

“I think you’re alright.”

“Wow. Tough guy here.”

“I think you are both equally ugly.”

“Fuck you, Stanley.”

Bill said, “I th-think y-you guys sh-should guh-get going. I-It’s getting luh-late.”

This was met by:

“Ugh, c’mon Bill…”

“Seriously?”

“Bill….”

Bill sighed in exasperation. “We’ll s-see each uh-other at s-s-school t-tomorrow.”

Nobody wanted to, but they all went to grab their things, and they began filing out the door. Bill wished them all goodnight as they passed.

Beverly was the last one out. “Goodnight, Bill,” she said softly.

“Guh-Goodnight, Bev.”

She waited for another two seconds, hoping for something more, anything, but she was disappointed. She walked out slowly. _ You can’t just wait for him to do everything. Make a move. _

And with that thought fueling her with a new determination, Beverly turned around and kissed Bill on the lips.


	3. Richie Tozier Goes for Broke

_Richie Tozier couldn’t stand the silence as his friends all stared at Bev, and Bev stared at Bill, both coming to a major realization. He gave them fifteen seconds. If they couldn’t break the silence then, he would. _

_ Time’s up. _

_ “Yowza! I knew you had the hots for each other! Yowza, yowza, YOWZA!” he cried. _

_ “Hey, why don’t you get outta here?” asked the father a few tables down angrily. _

_ Ben, Mike, and Eddie laughed, Ben rather forcefully, but Bill and Bev continued to stare at each other in shock. _

_ “Oh, for fuck’s sake, can we not deal with your weird-ass romance right now? We have, and I hate to say it, some more important things at hand,” said Richie. _

_ That seemed to snap them out of it. _

_ Bill looked at Bev, a little hungrily _ (oh, brother)_, and then back at Richie. “Y-You’re right. We need to fuh-find out why we forgot everything.” _

_ He turned to the rest of the Losers. “Cuh-Can anyone e-else r-remember anything?” _

_ Eddie shook his head, as did Ben and Mike. _

_ Bill got up, and they did too. “Let’s g-get some fr-fresh air,” he said. Mike left a fifty dollar bill on the table. _

_ As they walked out the door, Richie called to the father, “Sorry about earlier!” and Bill dragged him out. _

_ They walked around in the lot of the diner. It was just getting dark. Bill and Bev hung around in the back of the group. _

_ “So…” _

_ “Um, yeah.” _

_ “Okay, I-I al-ways liked y-you,” said Bill nervously. _

_ Richie, who was walking in front of them, sighed. _To hell with what I just said. Let’s get the ship sailing.

“_Yeah?” asked Bev, smiling. _

_ “Yeah,” he said firmly. “I just…juh-just cuh-couldn’t…” _

_ “…find the courage?” finished Bev. Bill nodded, looking embarrassed. _

_ “Look,” said Bev, “I really like you too. I don’t know why I’m not as brave as I was eleven years ago, but I still feel the same way. After all these years.” _

_ Bill grinned. “Af-After wuh-we s-s-solve this, d’you wuh-wanna guh-go on a date?” _

_ Bev leaned against him with a sigh. “I’d love to, Big Bill,” she said happily. _

_ Richie retched. “Honestly, you should just stop calling him Big Bill. It’s gonna take on another meaning soon, Bev.” Bill choked, and Bev clapped him on the back, blushing but giggling. _

_ “And that was sweet and all, and I’m definitely getting diabetes after witnessing that, but we need to discuss some things right now,” said Richie. They both sobered again immediately. _

_ “The most important being why we don’t remember any of this,” said Mike. “I mean, I remember it now, after you guys told your stories, but nothing new’s coming up for me.” _

_ “Same here,” said Eddie. _

_ “Ditto,” said Ben. _

_ They sat down on the raised lip of concrete near the kitchen door on the side of the diner. _

_ Richie could see the father with his kids through a window, and he laughed. _Boy, I sure gave him grief.

_ Bev pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She popped open the box and offered it to everyone. Only Richie took one. _

_ “Y’know those are really unhealthy, right?” asked Ben as Richie lit hers, and then his. _

_ Bev sighed. “Yeah, I know. It’s just…old habits die hard, y’know?” _

_ Richie exhaled smoke. It wafted into Eddie’s face, causing him to cough. _

_ “Dude, what the fuck? Are you trying to give me cancer?” _

_ “My bad.” _

_ Richie and Eddie switched places, so Richie would be the farthest in the direction of the wind. He blew out a puff again. _

_ “So.” _

_ Bill glanced at him. “You got s-something?” he asked hopefully. _

_ Richie frowned. “I’m catching _ something _ alright. I just need some time.” _

_ “It might be better for you to just start talking,” said Bev, “It’ll all flow out naturally.” _

_ “Alright. I’ll try.” _

_ Richie took a few more puffs, thinking hard. What had happened after he left Bill’s? Nothing much. That wouldn’t be much of a starting point. But he did remember some exciting, very exciting things happening soon after. _

_ “Okay. I got it” _

_ The Losers leaned in eagerly, disregarding the stench of tobacco. It was so nostalgic for Richie he had a _

1

lump in his throat, hearing his mother yell at him.

“Mom…” he whispered.

“Richie, I’m done with your excuses! Do you know how expensive glasses are these days? We had some connections with Mr. Keene back at Derry, but we don’t know anybody here, Richie!” she screamed.

“Mom…”

“We’re _ poor_, Richie! Did you really need me to remind you? We can’t afford having you mess around and getting yourself in trouble like this! You’re father’s in Indianapolis because he can’t get a good job to support us, and this is how you repay him? Another bill?”

Richie was trying his hardest not to let his tears slip, now. He remembered Wentworth Tozier’s words, “You know you really lost when you cry.”

What had happened was Troy, in retaliation to Monday’s defeat, had sent James on a mission. In the passing period between classes, while Richie and Beverly were talking excitedly about her kiss with Bill, James had gone up behind Richie and shoved him face-first into a locker, shouting “Tag, you’re it!” much like Gard Jagermeyer had done not a year before. His glasses snapped at the bridge and his nose started bleeding profusely as Beverly cried out in horror.

“What, are you gonna tell me some big kid shoved you again?” his Maggie Tozier had cried furiously, as Richie tried, again and again, to explain.

“Mom, I know it sounds unlikely,” began Richie, squinting at the blur of color he assumed was his mother.

And the conversation continued like so, with Richie pleading again and again for his mother to believe him, feeling more and more heartbroken as each plea was ignored, and Maggie refused his one request, time and time again.

Maggie ended the conversation by saying that Richie wouldn’t get new glasses until his father returned from Indianapolis a week later.

“But Mom, I can’t see without my glasses!” Richie cried in dismay.

“Well you should’ve thought about that before roughhousing. Now get out of my sight,” she snapped, sounding close to tears herself.

Richie ran out of the house blindly, finally letting his tears slip. He had no idea where he was going but he just wanted to get away from his mother.

_ Why doesn’t she ever believe me? _

He didn’t know how he got there, but he ended up at a junkyard filled with abandoned cars and spare parts. He got in an old, abandoned Mercedes and began to weep in earnest.

_ There he is, flower boy. Time for him to float. _

Henry Bowers stood peeking out from behind the old school bus at the sobbing Tozier kid.

_ Are You gonna show Yourself? _

_ Yeah, I guess I should. It would be impolite not to. _

2

Richie didn’t know for how long he had lain in the car, crying, the entire thinking of his father’s words, and of how he really lost.

_ You really do credit to the Losers’ Club, Richie. _

When he’d finally calmed down enough, Richie began to panic. He had no idea where he was, or how he got there. His eyesight was a major handicap to him, and it was getting dark.

_ Deep breaths, Richie. What would Big Bill do? _

He took in his surroundings. Everything was blurry. He got out of the car and walked in a loop around the entire junkyard. He recognized one of the bends leading out the junkyard. He decided to follow it.

After walking down the path, and nearly falling into the bushes on the sides of the path multiple times, Richie finally made it to a clearing.

“What the…?”

Richie could make out the large yellow blob of the school bus not far away. He was back in the junkyard.

_ Beep beep. _

Richie screamed. He knew that voice. _ He knew that voice. _

He was really panicking now. Not only was he practically blind, but he was now also hearing things.

_ Oh, Richie. I wish you’d just look at Me. _

Shaking with fear, Richie turned toward the direction of that—not quite a sound but almost—and groaned with dread. Standing in stark contrast to the rest of the blurry junkyard, Pennywise the Dancing Clown stood out in sharp relief, as if It were the close-up subject of a picture taken with a wide-aperture lens.

“What…what?” Richie sputtered in disbelief. His breaths came out in rapid puffs. He was hyperventilating. He sure wished Eddie was here with his aspirator. That would’ve been nice.

_ Calm down, Richie. I’m not here to hurt you. _

“Bullshit! You tried to kill me and my friends!”

_ It was in self-defense, Richie. Imagine a couple of kids coming into your home, saying they want to kill you. How would you react? _

“You might be here for revenge, or something!” cried Richie.

_ I’ll let you in on a secret, Richie. Here’s why you can trust Me right now: I can’t hurt you when I’m outside of Derry. _

It suddenly appeared beside Richie, who jumped. Before he could run away, Its hands turned into large paws, boasting large claws, and It took a swipe at Richie’s side.

He expected his insides to be pouring out of a wound on his side, but there was nothing. Its hand passed through Richie’s side like a projection.

_ I can’t hurt you in Hawkins, Richie. _

“Yuh-You ate children! You ate Georgie!”

It lowered Its head and closed Its eyes, as if in remorse. _ It’s just My nature, Richie. Who can blame Me for being born this way? Is a lion a sinner for killing to eat? I should think not. It pains Me to do what I must, but I need to survive. You should understand that, right? _

Richie hated it, but he _ did_.

_ Yes, you do. We’re not quite so different, you and I. _ It sighed. _ I promise you: I am not here to hurt you. _

_ I’m here to make a deal. _

Richie’s fear immediately turned to suspicion. “And what sort of deal do You want?”

_ I can give you back your sense of sight. _

Richie gasped. “Wha-?”

_ In exchange for one of your outfits. _

Richie would have laughed had he not been so on edge. “Um, what?”

It snapped Its fingers. Suddenly, they were back in Richie’s room, Richie guessed from the warm blurs of light. _ You’re not getting your glasses until a week later, right, Richie? Potentially? As in, if your father feels generous enough? _

Richie’s eyes narrowed. “How’d Y-”

It rolled Its eyes. _ I know everything, Richie. I’m basically a god. I can make your eyes as good as when you were born. You’ll never have to wear glasses again. Your parents will be able to save some money. _

Richie’s eyes widened, but then he sighed. “Look, I know there’s probably a catch to this. You’ll give me back my sight but I’ll become deaf, or something.” Oh, but he was so tempted. He imagined not having to those ugly bottle glasses ever again.

_ And why would I do that? _

“Because You’re a sadistic bastard.”

It gasped. _ Richie! You wound Me! _

Richie sat on his bed. “Why do You want one of my outfits, anyway?”

It sat beside him, and Richie almost laughed at how normal It seemed. _ I get bored, Richie. Imagine having to sleep for 27 years, and waking up only long enough to eat. Really? Clothes for 20/20 vision again? And you’re hesitating? _

Richie looked at clothes and sighed. “I don’t know. My parents worked hard to get me these clothes.”

It scoffed. _ Worked hard? Sure, yeah. I admire how much you care for your parents. But has your mother ever given you that much thought? You come home, bleeding and bruised, and your mother yells at you. It’s your fault, and only because glasses are expensive. That’s the only reason why she got mad at you. She doesn’t care about you, Richie. She only cares that she can’t afford what she wants. _

As It talked Richie began to fill up with more and more self-pity and anger. Resentment towards his mother filled his pores, leaving him feeling itchy and unclean.

_ Maybe, if they don’t need to spend so much on you, they’ll work less. Then they can spend more time with you, and then they’ll care more about you. _

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “I’ll do it.”

It looked at him sideways. Richie looked back at this monster, and saw Its beady yellow eyes, cold and emotionless, and suppressed a shudder. _ I hate clowns. _ It held out Its left hand. It was engulfed in blue flames.

_ Shake on it. _

Richie looked at the burning hand, and, ignoring all his instincts screaming at him to turn around and break the deal, he shook it. _ My parents won’t have to spend so much on me anymore. _It did not burn at all, just as Richie suspected. Shaking Its hand felt like shaking anyone else’s hand.

After their hands fell back to their sides, Richie looked at It. “So, which outfit do You want?”

_ Hmm. I want the one you always have on, silly boy. _

“Wha_—__cough! _”

It had jumped up, high up into the air. Richie felt his mouth open without his prompting. Then It dove in headfirst, sliding in until Its body disappeared completely into Richie’s tiny one.

Richie fell to the floor, convulsing as his room started to fade around him, returning to the decrepit state of the junkyard. It was completely dark now. _ What the fuck did I do? _

Then the junkyard began to fade from existence, turning to black. The last thing Richie saw was a shape that looked suspiciously like Henry Bowers kneel beside him.

3

“Bill, c’mon. We need to create a character for you,” Mike insisted.

Bill sat in his basement, beside Will. Dustin was there was well, but Lucas had to babysit his sister, Erica.

Bill groaned. “Mike, I t-told you I-I don’t want t-to puh-play.”

Mike groaned as well. “C’mon, Bill! It’ll be fun!”

“I’m nuh-not playing.”

“C’mon Mike, just let it go,” said Will.

“What? You too, Will?” cried Mike, betrayed. Will looked down guiltily.

Bill looked at his watch. “C’mon. They’re huh-here.”

The Losers agreed to meet at Bill’s house again, to celebrate their first Saturday of the school year with a sleepover. Mike had proposed his Party show them around Hawkins, and the Losers agreed readily, feeling more warmly towards him after he’d saved Richie from a gravy shower on Monday.

Bill had just finished breakfast when he heard the doorbell ring. Sharon, who was still yet to speak to him from the motel, coughed pointedly. Zack just continued reading the paper. Bill sighed and answered the door to find Mike Wheeler and his friends Dustin and Will standing behind him.

“You wanna come over, first?” asked Mike.

Bill grinned.

And that was how he found himself being forced into creating a D&D character. Mike had pleaded and begged, but Bill was firm. Their parrying continued for nearly half an hour.

Dustin sat on the couch, eating Nilla Wafers and looking terribly entertained, while Will was stuck between giving him looks of exasperation and trying to move the conversation on.

Mike checked his watch and groaned again. “Alright, let’s go.”

They stepped outside to find that Beverly and Stan had already arrived.

“Huh-Hey,” Bill greeted, giving Beverly a hug. _ Should I give her a kiss? I don’t know if this is the right place. Oh, what the hell. _

And so he leaned over and gave her a peck on the lips, feeling the butterflies emerge again. Beverly grinned abashedly and looked very pleased.

After Beverly had kissed him on that Monday, Bill had almost fallen over in surprise. He didn’t have the chance to reciprocate. She pulled back and looked at him nervously, watching his brain tick, and then he moved forward with almost reckless abandon, capturing her lips. She sighed against his.

“So what are you now, expecting?” asked Richie after Beverly told him the entire story proudly, as he and Beverly stood beside the lockers. Beverly slapped his arm.

“Richie!” she hissed, slightly pink. Richie laughed.

“Bill, do I get one too?” asked Stan slyly, wiggling his eyebrows and shaking Beverly out of her thoughts. Bill flipped him off with the arm that wasn’t around her.

“I hope this doesn’t become a staple. I don’t wanna get grossed out every time you’re together,” said Mike.

Bill groaned. “Oh luh-lay off!”

Then, Richie arrived on his bike, sporting his usual impish grin. “Hola, nerds.”

Bill took one look at him and laughed. “How’d yuh-you get out huh-here without d-dying, Richie?”

Beverly then noticed how Richie didn’t have glasses on, looking even more like Mike than usual. Her heart ached as she remembered what had happened.

_ “Richie!" _Beverly hissed, pink. Richie laughed.

“Tag, you’re it!”

James grabbed Richie by the back of his shirt and slammed him face-first against the lockers. Beverly screamed.

Her hands flew to her mouth in shock as Richie crumpled to the ground after James released him, laughing. She dropped down on her knees and heaved him over so he was sitting against the lockers.

His eyes were rolled up to the back of his head and his glasses were gone. But what was most concerning was the large quantity of blood pouring from his nostrils.

Hands shaking, Beverly grabbed his shoulders and shook them. “Richie? Richie! Wake up!” She didn’t notice she was crying.

James stood awkwardly on the side, watching the scene unfold with growing concern.

Beverly whipped around to look at him with wild, bloodshot eyes. _ “Get help!” _ she screamed.

James ran as quickly as his feet could carry him to the nurse’s office. He returned moments later with Ms. Patterson, the school nurse.

“Oh my,” she gasped. She turned to James. “Can you carry him?” James nodded. “Bring him to my office.”

Richie came to in the only bed there was in the Hawkins Middle School nurse’s office. He could see blurs of color gathered around him, and he immediately recognized them as his friends.

“What-What happened?” he croaked, and suddenly Beverly had her arms around him and was trying not to cry and all the other Losers were crowding around in a group hug.

“Yuh-You were a-ambushed,” said Bill shakily.

“You scared me to death!” Beverly cried from his neck. He patted her back clumsily.

Richie looked at them all and grinned. “Well, fellas, I’d say I’m a bit of a celebrity around school right now, eh? Talk of the town. Probably all the girls are worried whether or not ol’ Richie Tozier’s alright,” and the Losers all laughed in relief.

“Listen, as much as I like looking at Eddie with this sort of view, I mean Eddie, honestly, you look more handsome right now than ever, I need my glasses to see,” said Richie, feeling much better.

All of the Losers’ smiles faded, if the pink “u’s” Richie assumed were his friends’ lips that had just turned into “n’s” really were his friends’ lips.

“So, uh,” began Eddie.

“So what?” Richie asked, his eyes narrowed.

“There’s a problem,” said Ben.

“And that problem is…um,” said Stan. They all turned towards Bill, who sighed.

“Richie, yuh-your glasses b-broke,” he said bluntly.

“What? You’re kidding, right?” asked Richie, feeling the blood leave his face.

They all shook their heads solemnly.

“Fuck.”

“Oh, I just believed I wouldn’t get hit, and I didn’t!” said Richie cheerfully.

“Okay…” said Bill. Hadn’t that been his thing? Did it somehow work for Richie too?

They were interrupted as Eddie arrived, looking disheveled. “What happened to you?” asked Stan.

“I was going on Polk Street and then I saw this old guy mowing his lawn,” said Eddie, as if that explained everything.

“Uh huh,” said Beverly. When Eddie said nothing more she said, “Please elaborate.”

“I mean, what more is there to say? Freshly-cut grass is terrible for my allergies and it, frankly, smells pretty disgusting,” said Eddie, rolling his eyes.

Beverly shook her head, and looked and Richie again. He seemed to be doing quite well. Richie seemed to sense her gaze and looked at her. He winked, and then turned to look at Bill. Beverly felt herself almost wilt with relief. He seemed fine.

Mike Hanlon and Ben arrived less than a minute later, and they were off.

4

“We call this forest Mirkwood,” said Mike proudly from atop his bike.

“Like from _ The Lord of the Rings_?” asked Stan, interested.

Dustin gave a loud cough that sounded remarkably like, _ “The Hobbit!” _

“You guys are so nerdy,” said Richie. “Like supreme nerdiness, ya get me?”

“What’s wrong with calling it ‘Mirkwood?’” asked Mike defensively.

Bill looked at Richie curiously. _ “Ya get me?” What? _

“It’s just so nerdy,” said Richie vaguely, smiling smugly.

This seemed to anger Mike. “What’s that even supposed to _ mean_?” he asked.

“Guh-Guys! Let’s k-keep guh-going,” said Bill firmly. Mike glared at him.

_ Don’t tell me what to do. _

_ Then stop acting like you need me to. _

Mike huffed and started riding away.

Bill looked at Richie, eyes narrowed. Richie grinned at him innocently, then turned his bike to follow Mike.

_ Hmm. _

“Bill, are you gonna stay here all day?”

Bill jumped, then turned and looked at Beverly, who was smiling.

“Nuh-Nah,” he said.

They rode in silence in the back, with Beverly occasionally throwing curious glances at him. She could sense he wanted to talk, but was just thinking about what to say.

Bill finally opened his mouth. “I th-think s-something’s off with r-Richie,” he said. Beverly stared at him, confused.

“I mean, his glasses are missing and that’s probably throwing him off,” she offered eventually.

“Nuh-No. Notice huh-how he’s b-barely tuh-talked the huh-whole time. He s-said, ‘Ya get muh-me?’ in a s-s-sentence, and he d-doesn’t s-seem t-to have ch-trouble s-seeing. And he’s nuh-not fuh-funny,” he insisted.

Beverly thought about it. “Hmm…” They rode in silence as she gathered her thoughts.

When she couldn’t come up with a good reply, she said, “Okay, maybe he’s in a weird mood? Maybe things aren’t good at home?”

Bill looked unconvinced. “Muh-Maybe.”

They stopped at the quarry. Everyone else was already there and staring down the edge of the cliff.

“How much you wanna bet I can survive this?” asked Richie, grinning widely.

“You’re bluffing.”

“No way.”

“You’d splatter!”

Bill and Beverly stood to one side, watching thoughtfully. Finally, Beverly said, “Okay. Something’s off.”

As usual, being right brought no comfort or sense of triumph for Bill. His unease only heightened when Eddie walked up to them and asked if they thought Richie was acting strangely.

Beverly filled Eddie in on everything she and Bill had discussed while Bill stared at the distance, thinking.

What could be the cause of Richie’s behavior? Grief over losing his glasses? That was possible, as Bill remembered Richie once telling him how upset his parents were every time he came home with broken glasses. Perhaps he was just having an off day? Possibly, but Richie hadn’t acted like this on his off days, either. Bill could attest to that. So what was it?

He turned to look at Richie, who stood surrounded by the other kids. Bill was startled to find Richie staring at him, unblinking and expressionless. He seemed oblivious to the chaos around him, as Ben and Dustin argued whether or not a human could survive a fall from that height. Bill stared back, feeling incredibly uncomfortable and slightly scared. Then Richie’s lips peeled back in a smile, like one of those grimaces apes did when they felt threatened, and he looked away, turning back to the other boys.

Bill felt shaken. He flinched as Beverly slid up next to him. “I saw that, too,” she said softly, staring at Richie intensely. Bill wanted to cancel the sleepover. Just forget it until he could get to the bottom of what was happening with Richie, but then realized the sleepover might be the perfect opportunity to find out.

He turned to Beverly beside him. She looked sideways and met his eyes. It was so strange being the same height as a girl, but he wouldn’t have Beverly any other way. He smiled grimly. “Let’s cuh-crack this cuh-case.”

5

It felt hunted. It could feel Denbrough’s and Marsh’s eyes on It.

_ Just a few more hours, and they’ll be dead. Oh, yes! Just act the way that Trashmouth would. _

“How many virgins does it take to screw in a lightbulb?” It asked Ben beside It.

Ben looked resigned, as if already knowing he wouldn’t like the answer. “What?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I was asking you!” It giggled. It pedaled ahead, leaving behind an incredibly confused Ben.

“Guh-Guys!” said Bill loudly from behind them. They all stopped.

It looked at him cooly, not wanting to reveal anything. _ He’s already onto You. Just stay calm for a few more hours. Oh, I can do that! That’s easy. _

“Go huh-home and guh-grab your s-stuff and luh-lunch. Meet m-me at my huh-house in tuh-two hours,” he said, and everyone cheered.

“You’re the best, Big Bill!”

“Thanks, man!”

“Sign my yearbook?”

And they rode off. It rode off to Richie Tozier’s house to grab a sleeping bag, a change of clothes, and some food. And a pocket knife. Mentally, It was calculating Its chances in a physical fight.

_ Tozier is scrawny. Avoid confrontation at all costs, at least until weapon is in hand. And bring flower boy for backup. _

It didn’t notice Eddie and Beverly staying behind. So was the price of fulfilling a bargain: the loss of omnipotence.

6

Bill, Beverly, and Eddie rode together, first to Eddie’s house. They planned along the way.

“What d’ya think it is?” asked Eddie.

When Bill didn’t answer, Beverly looked at Eddie and shrugged. She saw her worry reflected in his eyes.

“I just hope he’s alright,” she said.

“Me too,” said Eddie.

They stopped outside Eddie’s house and rushed in. Mrs. Kaspbrak was sitting in her usual seat in front of the television. Her face soured when she saw Bill and Beverly, but a cold look from Eddie silenced her. She them gave a fake smile that neither bothered to return.

Eddie led them up to the kitchen. “Okay. I have some sleeping pills that we can use. We can slip him some or something,” he said, flipping through the medicine cabinet.

Bill grunted his approval. “Wuh-We’ll look. Juh-Just grab y-your stuff.”

Eddie nodded and rushed upstairs to get his sleeping bag. It was washed and air-dried yesterday for this occasion. He grabbed his duffel bag with his change of clothes as well. He looked around his room, and after a moment’s hesitation, grabbed his Mace canister and slipped it in his pocket.

He rushed downstairs to find half the contents of the medicine cabinet spread across the kitchen island. He mentally groaned at the mess, but chose to ignore it.

“Did you find anything useful?” asked Eddie.

Both Bill and Beverly shook their heads. Eddie sighed and said, “Just leave it, guys. I can clean up after this is over.”

They ran out the front door and mounted their bikes. Eddie stuffed his things in the basket, and they rushed off to Beverly’s house.

Martha was out at a dance lesson, so the house was empty. Beverly went up to her room and grabbed her sleeping bag and her duffel bag. She stood momentarily, wondering if she ought to grab anything, but her mind drew a continuous blank.

_ “Bev! Juh-Just go!” _ cried Bill from downstairs, and Beverly grit her teeth in frustration. She rushed back downstairs and they went back to their bikes. She dropped her bags in the basket of her bike and off they went, back towards Bill’s house.

“Wuh-Wait!” said Bill, his eyes alight as they were when he had an idea.

His friends turned to him curiously.

“Luh-Let’s go to r-Richie’s. We’re c-close. We muh-might be a-able to cuh-catch something,” he said excitedly.

Beverly and Eddie both hesitated.

_ This could go seriously wrong, _ thought Beverly. She voiced that thought.

“Th-Then wuh-we just can’t b-be cuh-caught,” said Bill confidently. Beverly wished she could share that confidence in the plan, but went along anyway.

They stopped a block from Richie’s, and dropped their bikes behind a bush so that nobody on the sidewalk would be able to see them.

They crept along the side of Richie’s house, to the back.

“Richie’s room is up top,” Eddie whispered urgently.

Bill nodded, putting his hands together and bending down. Eddie climbed on, and stood up straight. He had to stand on his tiptoes to see anything other than the ceiling of Richie’s room, hurting his balance tremendously. Wobbling back and forth, Eddie was able to catch a few glimpses of what was inside, and was shocked.

Sitting in Richie’s room were Richie, which was not abnormal, and Henry Bowers, which was very abnormal. Eddie’s head immediately swirled with theories and conspiracies.

_ Is Henry hurting him? Is he making him do something? What the fuck are they doing? _

The more Eddie watched, the more confused he became. Richie was sitting on his bed, and Henry was standing and facing him. Neither spoke as they stared at each other.

Then, suddenly, Richie’s head whipped around to look in Eddie’s direction. Their eyes met. Eddie’s flashed with panic, and Richie’s were mocking.

Eddie lost his balance, tumbling down and landing his elbow in Bill’s back. “Run!” he whispered urgently.

He dragged a groaning Bill up and along and Beverly followed quickly, just as they heard the window open.

“Oh, Eddie!” Richie’s voice could be heard singing.

Eddie took a puff from his aspirator as they ran to their bikes, with Bill and Beverly confused but feeling panicky as well.

They rode off towards Bill’s house, and waited until they were two blocks away before they bombarded Eddie with questions.

“Wuh-What h-happened?”

“What the fuck was that?”

Eddie gulped. “Okay, this sounds crazy, but I saw Richie sitting in his room with Henry Bowers.”

_ “What?!” _

“I know! I know it’s crazy! But you gotta believe me!” cried Eddie.

“Wuh-We believe you. What ha-happened?” asked Bill urgently, disregarding traffic completely as cars swerved to avoid him.

“They were just sitting there, staring at each other. They weren’t talking. Just staring at each other. Then Richie turned and looked at me and then I fell.”

Bill and Beverly were silent for a moment, and then Bill spoke.

“It.”

“What?” asked Beverly, desperately hoping Bill wasn’t talking about It.

“It wuh-was It. The cuh-clown. It uh-appeared a-at the muh-motel on my wuh-way here. It k-killed s-s-someone. I th-think It’s buh-back,” said Bill, feeling the old familiar rage bubble up in him.

_ First you take Georgie. Then you take my best friend. I’m done being scared of you. I hope you’re ready for what’s coming. _

“It-It can’t be! We have twenty six more years!” cried Beverly. Eddie wasn’t so sure anymore.

“I dunno, Bev. Henry Bowers was possessed by It and he survived the fall. He might still be under Its control.”

Beverly shuddered. The pieces lined up. She just didn’t want to believe them. She didn’t want to believe Richie was in this much danger, or that It was here. But denial would do her no good.

“Okay. So what do we do?” asked Beverly desperately.

“Luh-Let’s guh-go back t-to my huh-house, f-first.”

7

Nancy stared at Mike. “What?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “This kid, Richie. He looks almost exactly like me,” he said impatiently.

Nancy scoffed. “Yeah, I got that. But why do you need all of these?”

Lying before Mike was his Supercom, his Swiss Army knife, a thick coil of rope, and a bear trap. She didn’t even want to know where he got the bear trap from.

“Something isn’t right,” Mike muttered, “Richie’s been acting all wonky today, and I don’t really feel safe being with him at the sleepover.”

Nancy raised an eyebrow. “And so what are you going to do with all that?”

“Oh, this is just in case I’m right. I hope I’m not,” said Mike as he packed those items in his backpack and slung it on.

“I don’t think you should go, Mike,” said Nancy, beginning to feel genuinely concerned.

“What, you don’t think I should go just because there’s a girl?”

_ “There’s going to be a girl?!” _

“Yes! And nothing’s gonna happen, Nancy,” he said, exasperated.

He stuffed his sleeping bag into his duffel bag and walked out the room, leaving Nancy chasing him and sputtering.

“Wait a minute. Wait a minute! Stop for one moment,” Nancy demanded.

Mike stopped and turned around impatiently. “What?”

“Let me get this straight. You come in here, acting crazy. You grab what you and your friends call ‘zombie apocalypse items’ _ for a sleepover_. You tell me you don’t feel safe around a kid but still want to go. Then you tell me there’s going to be a girl? What are you going to tell me next: that Bill’s parents aren’t home?” Nancy asked incredulously.

“They’re not,” said Mike hotly, turning again.

_ “What?!” _

Bill, Beverly, and Eddie sat in the living room, discussing in low voices how they should get Richie to eat the sleeping pill, and whether the pill would even work on a Lovecraftian deity, when the doorbell rang.

They all glanced at the clock. It was nearly an hour before the planned meeting time. Bill walked to answer the door, and Beverly and Eddie followed him.

Cautiously, Bill looked through the peephole, and recoiled. “Shit! It’s r-Richie!” he whispered to Beverly and Eddie, whose eyes widened. Beverly grabbed the baseball bat Bill had procured from the basement and held it at the ready.

Bill counted down with his fingers. His other hand held the doorknob. _ Three. Two. One. _

He swung the door open, and Beverly rushed forward. A startled Mike Wheeler yelped as he dropped his duffle bag in surprise. “Woah, woah! Calm down! It’s Mike!”

Beverly lowered her bat and breathed out in relief.

“Cuh-Come in,” said Bill hurriedly.

Mike stepped in, and Bill quickly closed the door behind him. Mike raised an eyebrow.

“You’re acting weird, y’know that?” he asked.

“Why are you here so early?” Beverly demanded.

Mike sighed. “I’m here to talk about Richie. He wasn’t acting right, today.”

Bill and Beverly exchanged glances, and Bill said, “Wuh-We noticed too. That’s wuh-why we’re s-s-so nuh-nervous.”

Mike nodded. “What do you think it is?”

Bill and Beverly exchanged another glance. Beverly spoke this time. “We’re not sure yet,” she lied.

Mike’s eyes narrowed. “Right…you’re not sure. Don’t lie to me.”

Bill sighed wearily. “It’s a luh-long s-story. We duh-don’t have t-time. We guh-gotta puh-plan. If wuh-we’re right, th-hough, we’ll e-explain everything a-after.”

“We will?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“Okay. So, what’s the plan so far?”

8

Nancy paced in the Wheeler living room beside Ted Wheeler, who was dead to the world on his La-Z-Boy.

She was scared. She was terrified for Mike. Things weren’t adding up and that sort of chaos frightened her.

He’d been acting so strangely, after having some premonition about the sleepover.

_ What if he got hurt? What if he died? _ Nancy had to stop and steady herself with that latter one. She couldn’t imagine a world without her little brother, regardless of how annoying he was. _ And I’ve been treating him like garbage for the past few years. _

Nancy groaned and rubbed her eyes as a headache began to form. She had to do something about this. She couldn’t just pace at home and worry. She had to do something.

Glancing at her father, and remembering that he was once an avid fan of firearms, Nancy ran to Ted Wheeler’s office. She paused by the master bedroom and listened. She could hear snoring. Karen was already asleep after an exhausting day of work and caring for Baby Holly.

She opened the door to the office and was hit immediately by the musty smell of old paper. It was clear as day this office hadn’t been used in a long time.

_ Where would I hide my gun? _

She began flipping through the file cabinets and feeling along the bottoms. She found nothing. She checked both drawers in the desk and found nothing as well.

Nancy stared around the office and thought hard. _ If I were Ted Wheeler, where would I hide my gun? _

Then a thought struck her. _ I wouldn’t hide it at all! _

She glanced up and sighed with relief and exasperation. Sitting atop the mantle was a pistol, whose model and manufacturer Nancy did not know (she was clueless when it came to guns) and a couple of rounds.

She grabbed both and crept back to her room, where she had a clear view of the Denbrough house. She turned off the lights, and looked at the gun in her hands.

She noticed how cold it was in her hand, and was struck by its deadly beauty, like one would be by a bird of prey or a big cat. She did not miss the fact that in her hands was a machine capable of snuffing out life. And she was terrified.

But her brother was more important than whomever might try to harm him, and with that thought warming the blood coursing through her veins, she popped open the clip and began loading.

“And we should put the bear trap on the left.”

“Wuh-Why?”

“Because my house is closer to the other side and I don’t want my sister getting hurt in case she walks by.”

“Why would she walk that way?”

“Because I told her something was off and she seemed scared.”

“Guh-Great. We ha-have too m-m-many people i-in on th-his,” muttered Bill.

“What weapons do we have?”

Beverly dropped the bat on the table. Bill deposited his pocket knife. Mike his Swiss Army knife. And Eddie placed his Mace canister. Beverly raised an eyebrow.

“My mom made me buy it, okay? God!” said Eddie.

“Oh-Okay. S-S-So ruh-review,” said Bill.

“Bear trap will be on the left side of the house in case Henry drops by,” said Mike. Bill nodded.

“Weapons will be hidden in our pockets. The bat will be hidden under the sofa. Only engage in combat when endangered. Preserve Richie at all costs,” said Beverly. Bill nodded again.

“We’ll drop two sleeping pills in Richie’s juice,” Eddie held up a Ziploc bag with a white powder inside, which were two sleeping pills ground using a pestle and mortar, “His cup will be the Disneyland mug. When he’s asleep, we’ll tie him to a chair and wait until he’s awake, then…” Here he paused.

Bill pursed his lips. “We do wha-whatever we cuh-can t-t-to fix r-Richie,” he finished vaguely.

“Possible loose ends?” prompted Mike.

“L-Losers guh-getting in th-the wuh-way,” said Bill.

“Sleeping pills don’t work,” said Beverly.

“Or Richie doesn’t want juice,” said Eddie.

“Or Bowers has a gun,” finished Mike grimly. They all looked at each other.

“Guh-Good luck, muh-men and woman,” said Bill.

They all raised their glasses of lemonade. “To Richie!” said Mike.

“To Richie!”

9

It smiled in front of the mirror. _ You look pathetic. _

Tonight was the night. Tonight was the night It would kill Bill Denbrough once and for all, eliminating the only threat to It that had ever existed.

It grabbed Richie’s sleeping bag and duffel bag. It pulled out the switchblade It had found in Richie’s drawer, and curiously drew a long slash along Its upper left arm. _ Oh that feels funny. _

It wondered again and again about the incident from an hour ago, when It had caught Eddie Kaspbrak spying. Was he a threat? Possibly. Would he be able to put two and two together? Unlikely.

It tried to follow Kaspbrak's or Marsh's or better yet, Denbrough's line of thought. Richie was acting strangely. It had tried Its best to copy Tozier's mannerisms, but found Itself unable. Tozier was just too unpredictable.

Richie acting strangely could be chalked up to just having a bad day, or having a hard time without his glasses. But It immediately thought of the worst possible scenario: them finding out It was behind it all.

What would the plan be? Well they wouldn’t dare harm Richie’s body, and even if they did, It could just abandon ship and exist solely in the macroverse again. They would have a deficit and It would make it even. Then It would just sic Bowers, armed with a knife, after them, and they were dead. It wouldn’t even have to lift a finger.

_ There is no way for them to win. I’ve got Bill Denbrough in a checkmate! _

The doorbell rang, and Bill went to answer it as Ben and Stan made themselves at home, conversing with a nervous Beverly, Eddie, and Mike.

Bill answered the door and jumped when he saw Richie.

“Hello, Billy boy. Thanks for having this sleepover,” said not-Richie cheerfully.

“Nuh-No problem. Muh-Make yuh-yourself at huh-home,” said Bill.

“Oh, I will.”

Bill watched not-Richie enter the living room and saw his companions stiffen. Even Stan and Ben did, and they hadn’t even been in on the plan. Bill took note of the dark red stain on not-Richie’s left sleeve. _ What the fuck? _

“Hello, my friends!” cried not-Richie, “Who wants a hug?” Nobody moved.

“Oh c’mon! C’mere and give ol’ Richie a hug, eh? C’mere, Red!” Beverly hugged him stiffly, looking pale.

Bill walked over. “Luh-Let’s s-s-set up th-the muh-movie.” They were planning on doing a marathon on Star Wars. He popped in the first VHS.

The doorbell rang again. “I’ll get it!” said not-Richie. “You set up the movie, Billy.”

“Nuh-No,” said Bill without turning around, “Muh-Make yourself cuh-comfortable r-Richie. Bev’s guh-got it, r-right, Bev?”

“Right.” Beverly walked towards the door, and Mike followed behind her. She looked through the peephole and sighed with relief when she saw Mike Hanlon, Will, and Dustin. She opened the door.

“Hey guys,” she said with faux cheer, “Bill’s just setting up the VCR right now. We should be getting the first one up soon.”

“Alright!” cried Dustin, and Will laughed at his excitement.

After Beverly locked the door, they all went over to the living room, where there was a tense sort of atmosphere, one that could be cut with a knife. Bill had turned the lights off, and the television was paused right at the “FBI Anti-Piracy Warning” page, bathing the entire room in a harsh blue light. She could see Bill’s face: tense and twitchy, contrasted with not-Richie’s face: smooth and cool.

She sat down beside Bill, right above where her bat was hidden. He got up and said loudly, “Luh-Let me guh-get the ju-juice.”

And he went back and forth to and from the kitchen, bringing two cups at a time. He handed not-Richie the Disney mug.

“What is this?” asked not-Richie.

“Luh-Lemonade,” said Bill, “Do yuh-you nuh-not like it?” He sounded suspicious.

“Oh no, I love Le-mo-nade,” said not-Richie. To prove it, he drank the entire thing at once. “Oh, that’s bitter.”

“Mhmm,” said Bill, still trying to look suspicious. _ Mission accomplished. _ He then turned and looked at the rest of the people there, and asked, “Sh-Shall we b-begin?”

Not-Richie fell asleep by the time Ben Kenobi died, and Mike stepped up.

“Look,” he whispered at Ben, who was sitting beside not-Richie. Ben giggled when he saw not-Richie’s sleeping face.

“I’m gonna move him, alright? So he can sleep better,” said Mike easily. “Bill, a little help?”

Bill walked over quietly. He subtly poked not-Richie in Richie’s most ticklish parts. Nothing. He was out like a light.

He grabbed not-Richie by his feet, and Mike by the armpits, and they moved him over to the breakfast room, where they had a chair set up in the middle of the room. A coil of rope lay in a pile beside it.

Bill propped not-Richie up onto the chair in sitting position, while Mike grabbed the rope and began to wrap it around and around. Bill felt around in not-Richie’s pockets, and found a switchblade. Bill felt cold all over.

Once he tied the last clove hitch behind the chair, Mike stepped back to admire his work.

Wordlessly, Bill held up the switchblade to Mike, who stared at it in shock. “He was serious.” Bill nodded.

“Muh-Mike. Go buh-back and puh-protect Bev and Eddie,” said Bill.

“Are you sure?” asked Mike doubtfully. Bill nodded. “Alright, then. Good luck.”

He exited the room and closed the door behind him.

Bill pulled up a chair in front of not-Richie.

After around thirty minutes, not-Richie came to.

“What?” he groaned groggily.

“Hello, puh-Pennywise.”

Not-Richie’s head snapped over to the sound of the voice. It was Bill Denbrough.

“What are you doing?” It asked.

“I’m a-asking yuh-you nicely. Just th-th-this once. Guh-Get out of muh-my friend,” said Bill. There was a burning hatred in his frozen eyes that almost made It afraid.

“I’m not Pennywise, Bill.”

“What’s yuh-your f-favorite vuh-voice to do?”

It could not for the life of It answer that question, and so chose to remain silent. Bill sighed. “Guh-Get out.”

_ Flower boy. Time to shine. _

It sensed the flower boy. He was close by. _ Good boy. _

“Let Me tell you something, Billy boy,” said It, closing Richie’s eyes, “Richie doesn’t have to be hurt here, as long as you do what I say.”

“I’m l-listening.”

“You just need to untie Me.”

Bill laughed humorlessly. “Yuh-You th-think I’m s-s-stupid?” he scoffed.

“To be completely frank, I do. I think you're a somewhat smart human being and absolutely stupid compared to Me. I have you where I want you, Bill. I don’t think you realize that.”

“How s-so?”

The doorbell rang.

10

Mike got up from the couch cautiously. He pulled out his Swiss Army knife from his pocket and flipped out the blade. Beverly pulled her bat from under the sofa and followed. Eddie took a puff from his aspirator and pulled out his Mace canister, and followed behind Beverly.

“Um, what are you guys doing?” whispered Stan. Everyone else had fallen asleep only he had been really watching for the past twenty minutes.

When nobody answered him, he got up and followed Eddie.

“I’ll step back, and you whack him,” Mike whispered to Beverly, who nodded.

Beverly looked out the peephole. Sure enough, there was Henry Bowers, standing under the light and looking quite surreal.

“Guys, what are you doing?” whispered Stan. All of them shushed him.

“Stan, step back,” Beverly ordered. Stan obliged, and Eddie did the same. Beverly pressed herself flat against the wall.

Mike unlocked the door, and then opened it. “Hello. You must be Henry. Please, come in,” he said, voice shaky.

“Thanks, you little shit,” Bowers muttered as he stepped in.

_ Whack! _

Bowers dropped to his knees and groaned as Beverly hit him in the forehead with the bat. She pulled up, and slammed back down to get him again, but his hand shot up and grabbed it. He pulled the bat out of her grasp with inhuman strength and threw it aside.

Beverly stepped back and Mike rushed forward with his Swiss Army knife and then backed away just as quickly, as Bowers pulled a switchblade from his pocket. The blade sprang out. It was four inches long.

They all backed away slowly as Bowers approached them, knife swinging.

“What the fuck? Oh what the fuck?” muttered Stan. Beverly would’ve congratulated him for swearing had she not been fearing for her life.

Bowers backed them into the living room, where they could hear the Millennium Falcon flying out of the giant space worm.

“Say goodnight, freaks,” Bowers breathed, and he brought his knife up. Then there was a gunshot.

“Ruh-Richie, snap out uh-of it!” Bill cried as he heard the doorbell ring.

“Richie isn’t here right now. Would you like me to pass along a message?” It cried gleefully.

“Richie, th-this isn’t yuh-you!” Bill cried desperately. He slapped not-Richie’s face twice. It laughed.

“Oh, that feels hilarious!”

“Ruh-Richie, puh-please!”

There was the sound of a gunshot coming from the living room.

Both Bill and It quieted.

“Well this is unexpected. It seems like we have an unwelcome guest. _ Get her, flower boy._”

Nancy’s hands shook as she held the gun in front of her. She’d gotten a perfect headshot, just as he was about to knife her brother. _ That’s not happening, asshole. _

“Nancy?” Mike’s voice was wobbly, like he was about to cry. Nancy almost sobbed.

“I’m here, Mike. I’m-”

“Still alive.”

Suddenly, Bowers turned towards Nancy. She almost slapped herself on the forehead. She should have noticed that he didn’t go down!

He brought his knife up, and Nancy realized she hadn’t backed away. She did so now, hurriedly.

“No!”

Mike had gone up to Bowers from behind and stabbed him in the small of his back with his Swiss Army knife. The tip poked out through Bowers’ abdomen. He roared, and swung around. Mike backed away quickly, but still got cut on his bicep. He cried out in pain.

_ “Mike!” _

Nancy brought the gun back up and put two more bullets in Henry Bowers’ head. One in the back, and one in the fore. But Bowers just laughed every time.

“You can’t kill me, dear. The Moon Man won’t allow it.”

“Then it looks like I’m just going to have to blast your head open.”

Nancy released four more bullets, and each of them went in his head, but he still kept on laughing insanely, even as his face began to resemble a block of cheese.

He was getting dangerously close now, and her hands were shaking once again.

She fired once. It blasted off an eye.

She fired again. The other eye became a crater.

She moved left, to the front door. She did so silently, but Bowers just continued to follow her.

“Ha! Don’t act so surprised, wench! I don’t have to see you to know where you are!”

They were now walking outside in the cold, midnight air. The waxing gibbous moon winked at them from above, a deity having a hearty laugh at the plights of good people. Nancy continued walking backwards, and Bowers continued following.

Then, suddenly, Bowers charged towards her, head down and knife out.

Panicking at the sudden change of pace, Nancy fired again. Her footing was uneven and she missed. She stopped walking, and took a deep breath. Bowers was almost on her. She held the gun out, arms straight, chest tall. She fired.

And suddenly Henry Bowers stopped. He looked up, confused, as if suddenly coming to from a bad dream, wondering why he was blind and riddled with bullet holes, and toppled over.

Nancy stood and stared at him in shock. She walked up to him and prodded him. He didn’t respond. She ran back to the Denbrough house, where Mike, Beverly, Eddie, and Stan all stood and stared. She ushered them all in and locked the door behind her. She then hugged Mike with all her might, and he hugged her back tightly. She could feel his hot tears on her collarbone and she sobbed. She pulled all of the kids in an embrace, and there they stood for a good minute, heart rates slowly returning to normal. Then Beverly gasped, “Richie!” and they rushed past the living room, where everyone was now awake and panicking, and over to the breakfast room.

Hands shaking, Beverly opened the door.

“Luh-Let’s muh-make a deal!” Bill cried as he heard gunshot after gunshot.

“Speak. I’m listening.”

“Wuh-What do yuh-You want? Wuh-Why ah-are You here?” asked Bill.

“Can’t answer that, buddy. Sorry.”

“Wuh-what do You wuh-want f-from me?” cried Bill in anguish.

“I want you to leave Me alone.”

_ After You killed my brother? Fat chance, fucker. I’ll find a loophole. _

“Th-That’s what yuh-You want?”

“Yes.”

_ It was scared of me because I wasn’t scared of It. _

“Huh-How uh-about th-th-this? I cuh-can’t hurt yuh-You eh-anymore, and yuh-You ruh-release r-Richie and huh-Henry.”

It’s eyes widened. _ Oh, I like that. _

“Deal.”

Bill reached out his hand as It did the same with Richie’s, now engulfed in blue flames.

They shook.

“Alright, good deal. I’ll keep My end of the bargain.”

Suddenly, Richie convulsed and his mouth opened. Pennywise emerged from him, a ghostly figure, gaunt and pearlescent, and stood up.

_ It was nice doing business with ya, Billy boy. _

It laughed as It faded into nothing.

Bill rushed over to Richie, who was unconscious and drooling, and untied the knots.

He pulled Richie off the chair and into his arms.

“Ruh-Richie. Wake uh-up,” he whispered hopefully.

Richie came to, and took one look at the blur above him.

“Bill?” he rasped.

“Richie, yuh-you’re ah-alright!” Bill cried joyfully, pulling Richie into a hug.

Then Richie began to cry. “Oh, buh-Bill. I wuh-was so s-s-stupid!” he sobbed.

They knelt face to face, locked in an embrace, as Richie cried himself to his heart’s content on Bill’s shoulder.

That was how Beverly had found them, when she’d opened the door with her shaky hand. And she too began to cry, as she ran over to them, joining in the embrace.

Eddie, Stan, the rest of the Losers, and surprisingly, Mike Wheeler joined in on the hug as well. As they all knelt in a huddle, with sobs and sniffles breaking the silence every once in a while, Richie decided he no longer needed to know whether his parents loved him. He already had a family that truly did.

11

Nancy Wheeler’s slaughter of Henry Bowers was ruled as self-defense by Hawkins Police Chief Jim Hopper, who’d spent a full thirty seconds on the case.

“I mean, look at the guy. He’s got a switchblade. And a mullet!”

After the traumatic events of last Saturday, Mike finally decided it was time to introduce Richie to his mother.

He’d arranged to pick Richie up from Bill’s house on Tuesday, to see if he could stay over for supper, but as he rang the doorbell, he was greeted by one Bill Denbrough.

“Huh-He’s sh-shitting,” he said, chuckling. Mike sighed.

“So we’re meeting tomorrow after school?” asked Mike. Bill nodded. “And you’ll finally tell me what happened?” Bill nodded again.

When Richie finally emerged, Mike grabbed him by his hand and pulled him over to his house.

“Took you long enough.”

“Okay, I’m gonna be honest with you.” There was a pregnant pause. “I wasn’t just shitting.”

“What?”

“You’ll understand soon.”

“Okay…? Just remember to not swear. Or say anything sexual.”

“Aye-aye, Captain.”

“And did you have to wear a Hawaiian shirt today?”

They walked the short distance between the Denbrough residence and the Wheeler residence, waving goodbye to Bill. They walked up to the door, which was ajar, for some odd reason.

“Alright, I'll see you later, Karen!” said a voice loudly from behind the Wheeler’s now-open front door. Richie stiffened. _ I know that voice. _

Maggie Tozier froze as she stepped out the front door of the Wheeler residence. Standing before her were two identical children, one of whom being her son.

Richie stepped forward, eyes flashing dangerously behind his new glasses. “Mom, I think you have a lot of explaining to do.”


	4. Hawkins: The Interlude

March 7, 1998

There has been a chronic itch in my mind that I’ve been longing to scratch. But it seems to be one of those itches deep below the skin, the kind that no amount of scratching ever seems to be able to relieve.

The writing-down of these thoughts in my journal is my attempt at better understanding the nature of this terrible itch.

El says I am just still traumatized from those years during which I met her and everything went batshit crazy. But I don’t think she’s right this time.

I recently talked to a renowned psychologist about it. I drove all the way out to New Hampshire to meet with this guy, Dan Torrence.

I have no idea what I was thinking. I couldn’t talk to him about the Demogorgon or the Mind Flayer and expect him not to think I belonged in Pennhurst. Not the famous Pennhurst in Pennsylvania. No, everything we have here in Indiana is second-rate. No, I meant the Pennhurst Asylum a few miles out from Hawkins.

It all started when Dad died, that itch. He’d wasted away after Mom finally decided to get that divorce she always threatened but never seemed quite able to carry out. She ran off with some surfer dude half her age, and they now live in California. I still have a hard time forgiving her for that. Nancy never tried. We never told Holly what really happened. She’s still so young; we couldn’t push this sort of shit on her this early.

I remember the last time I spoke with Mom. It was at Dad’s funeral, four years ago. I was nineteen. El, Dustin, Will, Lucas, and Max were there too. I had my arm around Nancy, who was crying hard. It was probably because she spent the most time with Dad, and actually met the real Dad, when he still had energy and was happy and was a family man. I never met that Ted Wheeler. I just knew the lazy, dull, and unhappy guy he was until his death. But the old man tried his best, anyway. And most importantly, he was my _ dad_. Love him or hate him, he was the only dad I got. In other words: it was complicated as fuck.

“Promise me you won’t end up like him,” Mom had whispered to me. She had her face down, looking sad. It was only because I knew her so well I saw through the mask.

I don’t know what it was that pissed me off. I don’t know why I got so mad. I had mixed feelings for Dad that ranged from love to contempt, all balled into one. I guess I didn’t like seeing Mom shitting on his memory like that. I didn’t like how she didn’t wear anything that was fully black, either. I never expected in my life I’d get so mad on his behalf, though.

“Don’t tell me what to do, Mom,” I’d said. Her face twitched, and she lost it. Funeral-goers stopped and stared as Karen Wheeler’s picture-perfect façade finally crumpled, and she screamed to the world how much she had hated her husband during their marriage, how he’d never have sex with her, and how much she resented us for keeping her chained to him. I think her marriage with Dad just made her crazy, crazier than anyone realized, and this was the result.

“I beg your pardon?” I’d said, feeling an uncontrollable anger rise in me. Not even El’s hand on my arm helped.

“You-You…” Mom was crying now, as if just realizing what she’d said in front of all her “friends.”

“You’re so selfish, Mom. You don’t get that you had a responsibility, and you blew it.”

Those were my last words to her. I never called her, and Nancy hadn't either. I send postcards during Christmas, though. That is something, I guess.

God, when did everything start going so wrong?

Things with Mom had been rocky for a while. I remember things had been shit since the start of seventh grade. I got mad at her for something. She’d been repentant, remorseful, regretful. You know, one of those r-words.

I don’t know why, but I know this itch has something to do with Mom. If I followed that train of thought, from the funeral to the postcard to… 

Fuck. I don’t know. I really don’t know. I know I’m getting warmer now. I’m on the right track. I know it. I can feel it. All the guys and Max laugh at me when I say something like that, that I feel something. Only El takes me seriously about it, but she has no idea how to help because she doesn’t get that same feeling.

I remembered what that Torrence guy said. He told me to think about something, and he’d guess it. He guessed it: a dog. He told me only some people in the world had those sorts of instincts, and that it was a gift.

“Use it. Trust it,” he’d said. He didn’t charge me at all for my appointment, but told me to never come back. I know it sounds harsh, but he followed it up.

He said the answer to my itch was in my head. I just needed to trust whatever was guiding me up there. “Shine on,” he’d said.

I hope this issue is resolved quickly and cleanly, as I’ve felt unbalanced for the past few years of my life because of this itch. It hurts, like some part of me was missing and I was feeling some phantom pain. Or phantom itch.

I’ll keep writing the next time something strikes me.

_ Mike Wheeler _

April 9, 1998

You know, it’s odd, thinking about power.

I used to have it. I know it sounds like a weird thing to say, but I used to have it. I was the leader of my group of friends. They’d respected me and listened to me. They don’t do that anymore.

Well, let me rephrase that. They respect me, alright. They respect my thoughts and feelings, and treat me like a person. But they don’t hold me to the esteem they held me to in 1987.

I considered that my golden age, my “Pax Mikana.” I guess I was the undisputed leader. The superpower, the hegemon. Take your pick.

Then I had a decline in that power when Max joined, and Lucas and Dustin would rather listen to her than me. I’m not bitter about it. Believe me. Okay, maybe you shouldn’t believe that. I am pretty bitter about it.

You know it kind of reminds me of countries throughout history. For an analogy, 1987 me was the British Empire during the 19th century, at the height of its power. Max entering was my World War One, and I fell to the place of “great power” rather than superpower. But how did it go completely tits-up after that? Looking at me now you would have never guessed me as the leader of a couple of boys eleven years ago. What was my World War Two, the event that brought my leadership crashing down? I hate to say it, but I think it was when I started dating El.

Don’t get me wrong. I love El with all my heart and I’d rather date her than still be the leader of my friends. Like it's not even a contest. But it’s a fact that that was when I lost the thing I was most proud of up to that point.

You give and you take.

Max and El became the leaders of our friends. Why? Why did the two newest additions become the leaders? What makes someone a leader?

I guess someone’s a leader when people want to listen to them. And do you get people to want to listen to you? Charisma. For sure. Then what?

You have to have something that’s better than everyone else’s. It might be your money, your grades, your athletic ability. You need to be better than everyone else to be the leader.

I guess I got distracted, dating El during those first few months, when she was my first priority and I was my second. I stopped being a leader and responsible for my friends. And when she dumped me, I had a reshuffling. A reprioritizing. I changed my priorities. But it was too late. I’d already lost all the social credit I once held.

El, if you’re reading this, you shouldn’t be. I don't want to hurt you. But if you are hurting from reading this, just know that you deserve it for putting your nose where it doesn't belong. Just wanted to put that out there.

I was never a natural leader. I wasn’t good at anything. I was good in school, but so were my friends. I was shit at sports. I wasn’t funny, or cool, or popular, or good-looking, or anything desirable. I guess I was just less of a loser than my friends, and that wasn’t a stable foundation to build my regime on. Once someone cool like Max or someone perfect like El joined, well… 

Goodbye, Mike.

It was brutal. Max kicked every inch of me she could while I was down. She told El I treated her like garbage. She told El to "dump my ass," and forget Hopper telling me Nana was sick; everything was my fault. I fucked up. I know. But Max really took advantage of that to get back at me for being cold that first year. And it hurt to have El tell me I manipulated her while Max whispered what to say into her ear like a fucking teleprompter. And afterward, Max said she thought it was just good fun. She is sadistic and cruel and manipulative and a piece of shit.

But I did know one. A natural leader. I just remembered who he was and everything I just wrote was sort of a prologue to this.

Bill Denbrough.

That name came to me earlier today, and I know it has to do with my itch. I don’t know a Bill Denbrough, but I think I did.

What had happened at the start of seventh grade, when things with Mom went to shit?

The alarming thing is, I don’t know. I remember Will disappearing, and El showing up. But whatever came before seems to be gone from my memories.

I have narrowed my itch down to this brief gap in my mind. Once I can figure out what had happened during the beginning of seventh grade, I think I can finally put this problem to rest.

For now, I can only wait for something to hit me.

_ Mike Wheeler _

April 23, 1998

I’ve got it. I finally got it. I know who Bill Denbrough is, or was. All these names started coming back to me: Beverly, Richie, Eddie, Stan, Mike Hanlon, Ben. These guys. These guys were crazy.

I remembered becoming friends with them. They were from Derry, which was evacuated back in ‘87. Ronald Reagan issued that executive order.

Some things had happened during that time. It’s still foggy in my mind, but that’s alright. I know where to go from here.

I looked up Denbrough on Whitepages and found one my age. He lives in the United Kingdom. Okay. Fancy.

I’m gonna give him a call.

_ Mike Wheeler _


	5. Bill Denbrough Takes a Stand (II)

_ Bill’s head spun. He sat quietly as Eddie and Ben exploded into questions, and Richie tried to answer them as best he could. _

_ “Okay, so Bill basically sold his soul to the devil.” _

_ “How the fuck do we beat It without Bill?” _

_ “Hey. Hey! Calm down guys,” Richie said. “We don’t have the complete story yet. We’ve told three parts so far, and I’m sure as Eddie’s virginity there’s more.” _

_ “C’mon, dude. I’ll have you know I’m not a virgin.” _

_ “Atta boy, Eddie.” _ _  
_

_ “Woah, Eddie!” _

_ “Who was the lucky guy, Eds?” _

_ Bill’s cell phone rang. Everyone quieted. He pulled out his Nokia and stared at the tiny screen. It was not a contact. He answered. _

_ “Hello?” _

_ “Is this Bill Denbrough?” asked a low voice. _

_ “Yes. A-And to whom am I s-s-speaking?” Bill replied. _

_ “Mike Wheeler.” _

_ Bill’s eyes widened and he gasped. The Losers gathered around him immediately began bombarding him with questions. _

_ “Who is it?” _

_ “Is it your Mom?” _ _  
_

_ “A coworker?” _

_ “The IRS?” _

_ “Guys!” said Bev loudly, and they all quieted. “Give him a minute, alright?” _

_ “Oh my God.” Bill was completely ignorant of all the questions that had just been thrown at him. _

_ “Yeah. Did your memories just come back too?” asked Mike. _

_ “Yeah!” said Bill excitedly. _Something’s at play here.

_ “Where are you? I want to meet with you,” said Mike. _

_ Bill looked at his friends, who stared back at him. “I’m w-with the Losers, i-ironically. We’re in sh-Chicago.” _

_ “Awesome. I’m still living in Hawkins. Do you think you can come over soon?” Mike sounded eager. _

_ “Yeah. Let me a-ask. Gimme a s-sec.” _

_ Bill put the phone down. “Guys, i-it’s Mike wuh-Wheeler.” Their eyes all widened. “He’s s-s-still living in huh-Hawkins. He wants t-to meet us.” _

_ “I can get us there. I got some drivers out here,” said Eddie. Bill grinned, and it was settled. _

_ Bill raised the phone back up to his ear. “Mike?” _

_ “Yeah, Bill?” _

_ “We sh-should get there t-tomorrow.” _

_ Bill could hear Mike’s smile. “Awesome. I’ll see you guys then.” _

_ “Bye.” _

_ Bill looked at the Losers, and they stared back at him, wide-eyed. _

_ “Did he just get his memories back, too?” asked Bev. Bill nodded. _

_ “Suh-Something’s going on here,” said Bill thoughtfully. _

_ Ben nodded. “We don’t hear from him, or even think about him for eleven years, and suddenly all these memories are just coming back. I don’t like it.” _

_ “I don’t luh-like it either, Ben, but we need to s-s-solve this,” said Bill. _

_ Three hours later, as the Losers all sat in the back of one of Eddie’s limos (“Wow, compensating much, Eds?” Richie had said slyly) and were steadily eating away the miles between them and Hawkins, Bill stared out the window at the moon as Bev slept soundly against him. _

Hopefully we’ll finally get to the bottom of this.

_ He watched the moon, and, remembering Henry Bowers, looked away to the passing countryside. He thought about his childhood, and his heart pinched with a sharp pain when he thought about Georgie. _

God, Georgie. Even after all these years you still won’t leave me alone. I guess I deserve it for making you that paper boat. I’m so sorry.

_ He heaved a great big sigh, and watched with some grim amusement as Bev’s head went up and back down as he sighed. He watched her tranquil face for a while, suddenly feeling incredibly content, and looked away. _

_ Feeling too jittery to sleep, but too tired to watch whatever was passing by outside, Bill began to think. _

_ In his mind’s eye he saw himself and Mike Wheeler _

1

running as quickly as they could, once in a while giving a panicked glance behind them.

“Where are we supposed to hide?!” Mike asked frantically as he heard the cruiser get closer. The sound of tires crunching over asphalt and sirens grew louder.

The just-rising waning gibbous moon shined above them, providing the only light they had. All the streetlights in Hawkins had gone out. Bill found himself almost running into things many times. _ God, I wish I had Silver with me. _

_ No! Now is not the time to complain! Mike is counting on you to be the big idea guy! _

“Wait! I guh-got something!” cried Bill. 

They found themselves running back into the cul-de-sac they lived in.

“Why are we here? They’ll catch us quick!” yelled Mike.

“Just g-give me a muh-minute! Wait b-by the cuh-car!”

Mike ignored his request, sprinting forward and into his house.

Bill ran into his empty house and found the spare keys to his family’s wagon on the kitchen counter. He ran back out and unlocked the wagon.

Mike emerged from his house not a minute later with a tube and a glass Coca-Cola bottle. “Get in and pop the front!” he yelled.

Bill did as Mike asked and stared as Mike jammed a tube into something in the front of the car and began sucking on it. Bill got out. “What are y-you duh-doing?”

Mike put the end of the tube he’d been sucking on in the bottle. “I’m making a Molotov cocktail.”

“What?”

The bottle filled with a dirty brown liquid. Mike placed a bottle cap he had in his pocket on it. “A Molotov cocktail. It’s like a bomb. Do you have a firestarter?” He pulled out the tube and pushed the lid down.

“Yeah. F-Flint and s-steel.”

“Awesome. Can I drive?”

Mike got in the driver’s seat and placed the bottle of oil in the drink-holder. He jammed the keys into the ignition.

“Duh-D’ya know huh-how to drive?” Bill asked nervously.

“Better this than getting caught,” said Mike vaguely as he pushed down on the brakes. “Dammit!” He pushed down on the gas, and he heard the tires screeching. But they didn’t move.

“Yuh-You’re in ‘park!’” cried Bill urgently.

“Oh, right.” Mike pulled the stick to D4, and they were off.

_ “Luh-Look out!” _

They nearly drove into another house.

“Shoot! Sorry!” They shot towards the end of the cul-de-sac, where they saw to their combined dread the incoming police cruiser and car.

“Mike, uh-abort! Abort!” Bill screamed.

Mike ignored him. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he gave the steering wheel a mighty spin and shot onto the sidewalk.

They weaved around the cruiser and car, whose drivers hurriedly turned around to pursue them. But it was too late. The wagon was freed from the chokehold of the cul-de-sac and back on the road.

Bill breathed heavily and leaned back. Mike still looked incredibly nervous. Then they heard gunshots, and something fired into the rear of the car, embedding in the trunk. More shots came. Bill looked behind and saw the cruiser and car still on their tail, and the passenger in the car was hanging out the window with his gun out and firing.

“We need to lose them!” Mike cried. “Rip off a piece of your shirt!”

Bill didn’t question it as he pulled out his pocket knife and cut a strip off the bottom of his shirt. He nearly stabbed himself as Mike swerved. “Sorry! Now take off the cap of the bottle and soak one tip of the cloth. Then put the other end in and push the cap on so it stays!”

Bill did so, filling the car with the smell of gasoline. “Nuh-Now what?”

“Now light the tip on fire!” Bill’s eyes widened. He grabbed the flint and steel from his backpack in the back of the wagon and began striking the flint against the steel.

“C’mon,” he muttered, as each strike resulted in no spark. “C’mon…”

Then there was a spark, but the cloth didn’t catch. “Sh-Shit!” All the while the gunshots behind them continued as the cruiser began to gain on the old wagon. A shot flew through the back windshield and missed Bill’s head by an inch. He yelped.

Suddenly the cloth caught fire! Then, just as suddenly, Bill realized how dangerous it was to have burning cloth attached to a bottle of fossil fuel so close to him in an enclosed space, and began cranking open the window frantically.

“Oh my God get that out! Get it out!” screamed Mike.

Bill opened the passenger window. This was the only distraction they had. He had to make it count. He stuck his head and his left arm out the window and into the cool dusk air, hoping no bullets would go this way. _ Throw it far but not too far. _

And he did so. The Molotov cocktail flew over the hood of the wagon and landed on the ground right in front of the police cruiser. It exploded in a giant fireball on impact.

As Bill had hoped, Jim Hopper was startled and braked hard. The car behind him crashed into the rear.

Bill whooped, and Mike laughed in relief.

They drove off into the twilight.

Three miles away, and ten minutes ago, Beverly and Richie crouched behind the dumpsters in the back-alley of the movie theater.

“Okay, where do we go from here?” asked Beverly nervously. The police car was still near them. They could hear them.

Richie sat on his haunches. “We need to find somewhere to hide until they pass.”

“No shit!”

They both pressed themselves against the dumpster as they heard car enter the alley.

_ “Shit!” _Richie whispered.

“Honestly though, I could totally go for a Jucy Lucy right now. Like, that would just hit the spot, man,” said one of the drivers. While he was comically loud, Beverly felt incredibly concerned about the fact that they were nearly within speaking range.

“Shit, dude. You’re makin’ me hungry. Fly me to Minne—Holy shit, he’s got visual on the kid!”

Beverly and Richie exchanged nervous glances. They knew who this kid would be.

“Where?”

“He’s running East. Probably to the cul-de-sac with the other kid, ‘cause, y’know, they live there. The boss wants all forces concentrated on bottling them in.”

The other cop snorted. “‘All forces.’ Alright. Let’s go.”

They backed up and drove away.

“Shit! Fuck! How the fuck is Bill supposed to get away?! ‘All forces!’” cried Richie once they left.

“They’re only two cars and three cops. And he’s got Mike Wheeler with him. They’re gonna be fine.” Beverly didn’t know if she was reassuring Richie or herself.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get out of here.”

2

As Mike was driving, taking up two lanes, to whatever destination he had in mind, Bill found his mind drifting to how he and his friends even ended up in this mess in the first place.

_ How the fuck did we even get here? _

It had all started earlier today.

The Party was riding to Bill’s house Wednesday after school. They had scheduled a meeting with Bill. He was going to explain what the hell happened last Saturday.

“Why do you think Mike and Richie weren’t at school today?” Will asked Lucas as they got out of the financial district.

Lucas shrugged, looking unconcerned. “Probably just a sick day.”

“Yeah, you know Mike: he just does what he wants,” said Dustin.

Will nodded doubtfully.

They arrived at the Denbrough residence and found Bill waiting for them outside. “We-Welcome.”

“Thanks. Is leaving the bikes outside alright?” asked Lucas.

“Yeah.”

They left their bikes on the lawn and entered the house. Upon entering the living room Will had some traumatic memories in, he was surprised to find not just Mike but Richie as well sitting on the sofa. They both had bags under their eyes.

“Hey,” they both said at the same time.

“Jinx,” said Richie, sniggering. When Mike glared at him, Richie grinned. “Loser.”

“Oh-Okay guys. I’m s-sure yuh-you’re wondering wh-what h-happened on s-Saturday,” began Bill. They all nodded. “R-Richie here is guh-gonna explain e-everything s-so I’m nuh-not s-s-stuttering the whole t-time.”

Bill looked at Richie and sat down. Richie stood and spread his hands dramatically. “So how many of you guys like clowns?”

Bill sat on the couch, stuck in his own head as Richie spoke. He thought back on what Richie talked about less than an hour ago, when Bill had just arrived home from school.

3

“Richie, dear. And hi, Mike. Why don’t you come in?” Maggie Tozier was the picture of guilt, her teeth exposed in a grimace.

Richie stormed inside the Wheeler residence, not thinking for one moment it was his first time in this house. Mike walked beside him and guided him towards the living room, looking confused and scared.

“Who was that? How’d she know my name?” he whispered.

“That’s my mom,” said Richie shortly. His mind whirred with strange theories as to why she was here.

Mike’s eyes widened, but he was not so rude or in shock as to not offer his guest a seat. Richie plopped down on the sofa, and Mike sat down right next to him.

They sat, and heard hushed whispers approaching.

Maggie Tozier and Karen Wheeler entered the living room to find two pairs of accusatory eyes burning holes into them.

Nobody said a word as the adults took their seats across from their sons. Right as Karen was about to speak, a thought struck her. “I’m going to grab Nancy. She needs to hear this, too,” she said. She could feel her skin ripple with shame, which was funny, because the boys didn’t even know the truth yet.

She returned with Nancy to the living room to find the atmosphere as tense as it was before, with Richie glaring at his mother.

Nancy stopped short. This was the first real look she had of Richie Tozier. Last Saturday, everything had been so dark, and everyone was so hidden in that group huddle, that she had been unable to see his face. Richie really _ did _ look like Mike. And she was about to comment on that, but then sensed that now was perhaps not the best time. She sat beside Mike, who grabbed her hand.

“Okay, so I’m sure you must have a lot of questions about this…situation,” said Karen.

“That is correct,” said Richie curtly.

“Richie! That was rude!” cried Maggie. Richie silenced her with a glare.

“You’re hiding something from me. I can tell. So please, don’t tell me what to do. Mike and I have a free pass for just about anything right now,” he said coldly.

“Okay. Okay. Everybody, calm down. I’m going to tell you guys something, and it’s going to shock you,” said Karen, trying to remain in control and bracing herself for the inevitable earthquake.

“Mike, Richie…you two are twins.”

There was silence.

Then Richie spoke up. “So it’s possible for two women to have children now?”

Mike leaned forward, his eyebrows knit together. “And how come we’re just hearing about this now?”

Then Maggie burst into tears.

“I’m sorry, Richie!” she cried.

“Mom… answer my question.” Richie sounded close to tears, too.

“Maggie is my sister,” Karen began slowly, “She found out early on in her marriage she couldn’t have kids. When I found out I had twins, my husband and I weren’t in our current financial situation. We couldn’t support three children. So I gave one of the twins to Maggie to raise as her own.” She spoke calmly and cleanly, and a bit mechanically, as if she completely detached herself emotionally from the situation.

Richie felt numb all over, as Nancy, who he guessed was actually his sister, cried, “Mom! Oh my God! How could you?”

“I wanted Richard to believe that Maggie was his real mother, and so she and I never had you meet or even mentioned each other in front of you,” Karen continued, ignoring Nancy’s exclamations completely.

“Why?” was all Mike could get out. He grabbed Richie’s hand and squeezed firmly. Richie squeezed back.

“I’m sorry for everything, Richard. I really wish I could have raised you as my own, but I couldn’t and I’m sorry,” said Karen tonelessly.

Richie couldn’t stand it anymore. He stood up and pointed at his moms, his biological and his surrogate. “Yuh-You…” His hand and his voice shook.

“Richie, look at me. Please!” Maggie pleaded. Richie looked at her, his face lined with heartbreak and betrayal and looking ten years older than it did when he had just entered the house, and turned and fled. Mike followed closely behind and pushed him upstairs to his room.

“Guys!” Nancy cried. She ran after them.

Maggie Tozier and Karen Wheeler sat in the living room of the Wheeler residence. Maggie cried in earnest, while Karen continued to sit there in her chair, staring blankly at the wall.

Nancy caught her brother—_brothers_—as they entered Mike’s room.

She pulled them both into a hug. “Oh, you guys,” she sighed, as Richie sobbed against her collarbone.

Mike wasn’t crying, but he was staring at nothing in shock. _ I have a twin. Woah. _

Eventually Richie, exhausted from his crying and emotionally drained, fell into an uneasy sleep on Mike’s bed. “Can he stay?” Mike asked Nancy. She nodded.

Mike removed Richie’s glasses from his tear-stained face and put them on his desk. He sighed and sat in his chair and watched Richie sleep.

“Wake him up and make him wash his face,” Nancy said softly, as she was about to leave.

“Why?”

“So his eyes don’t swell up, Dingus.”

“Oh.”

Mike shook Richie’s shoulder, and he woke instantly. “C’mon,” he said gently, “Let’s get you cleaned up so your face doesn’t look gross tomorrow.” Richie followed him to the bathroom numbly.

Richie washed his face and looked in the mirror. _ God, I’m a mess. _

Once he got all the salt off Mike led him back to his room.

“Here. You can sleep here tonight,” said Mike. Richie shook his head.

“I dunno. I don’t feel like sleeping right now,” he said wearily.

“Richie, you’re tired. C’mon, let’s go.”

Richie got back on Mike’s bed. “Where are you gonna sleep?”

Mike nodded towards his chair.

“C’mere.”

Mike flicked off the lights and joined Richie on his bed, and they lay side by side.

“This isn’t too gay, I hope,” said Richie’s voice in the darkness. It was still rough and nasally from crying, but it was a joke. And Mike felt hopeful.

Mike laughed, and then Richie laughed too.

They fell asleep at the same time.

4

“And Bill almost got his neck broken. Like It had him in a headlock. And we were all going ‘Shit,’ and he told us to go. But we decided to stay even if we all died, ‘cause, y’know, we’re heroes. Like, that’s what we do. And we beat It up, and It fell back in Its hole to sleep for twenty seven years,” Richie finished seriously.

“So on Saturday…?” Lucas prompted, leading Richie to turn a dull shade of red in shame.

“I, um, I…I made a deal with It, and um…Long story short, I got swindled and It possessed my body. And you guys were trying to stop It, and that was why I was acting so weird. Wait. So you guys believe us?”

“Sure. Derry sounded pretty suspicious to me,” said Dustin. Will nodded.

“Wait. I thought you said It only comes around every twenty seven years?” asked Lucas.

“Oh, sure. But It’s back now for some reason. And we need to figure out why. And we need a game plan to take It out. Bill?”

Bill was silent as he sat on the couch, staring at the coffee table. His mind burned with the seemingly new pain of reliving Georgie’s death.

“Bill? Game plan?” asked Richie, putting his hand on Bill’s arm. This snapped him out of it.

“Th-Thanks r-Richie,” said Bill gratefully. “I-I think we s-should huh-have e-everyone else here t-too.”

“Well, everybody else isn’t here and is probably busy or something,” said Mike.

“We nuh-need everyone,” said Bill firmly.

“Agreed.”

“Ditto.”

“Cool ranch.”

“Dustin, that’s the new Doritos flavor.”

“Shut up, Lucas. I know that.”

“I’ll call them. We’re meeting back here?” said Richie. Bill shook his head.

“We’ll muh-meet t-tomorrow,” he said, glancing at the clock on the wall. It was near suppertime. They all nodded.

Everyone walked outside, with each member of the Party wrapped up in his own thoughts.

“Thanks for telling us this stuff, Richie. And thanks for having us Bill. See ya tomorrow,” said Lucas. They all bade him farewell as he biked away.

“I gotta go, too,” said Dustin.

“Me too,” said Will.

“Al-Alright. S-See you t-tomorrow,” said Bill.

They rode off.

Now that he was alone with only the people that knew, Richie turned to Mike. “Hey, Mike. Thanks for everything you did yesterday. I was, uh, in a bad spot,” said Richie, unusually shy.

“That’s what brothers do, right?” asked Mike, smiling slightly. Richie grinned back. He hesitated for a moment, and then hugged Mike. Mike hugged him back.

“Don’t get used to this, Richie. I’m not really a ‘hug’ person.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll see you tomorrow. See ya, Big Bill! Don’t stay up all night thinking about Bev!”

“Bye!” said Bill as he flipped him off. Richie laughed.

Bill and Mike watched as Richie disappeared. Bill turned to Mike. “You buh-believe e-everything?”

Mike nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. Stranger things can happen.”

Bill sighed in relief. “I wuh-was afraid you wuh-would th-think we be-belong in the luh-loony bin,” he admitted.

Mike grinned. “No, I believed you. Say, you wanna get something at the diner? I’m not really in the mood for my mom’s cooking tonight.”

“Sure. Lemme guh-grab my bike and wallet.”

They met at the same spot two minutes later. Bill was already on Silver.

“You guh-gotta name your buh-bike,” said Bill.

“No, I don’t,” said Mike.

“I s-swear. It muh-makes it s-s-so much cuh-cooler,” said Bill.

“You named your bike after a horse.”

“So?”

“From a Western.”

“Again: s-so?”

“I’m not naming my bike. Let’s get some food.”

Jim Hopper sat in his office, reading a report on unauthorized drilling under Starcourt Mall uninterestedly.

“Why do people take the time to report this crap?” he muttered.

It sat on his desk, unbeknownst to Hopper. It waved Its gloved hands in front of his face and laughed when there was no reaction.

But despite Its cheerfulness, It was afraid. Very afraid. It wanted to know how Bill Denbrough, the boy who promised not to hurt It and literally made a deal with the devil, was able to plan for Its destruction. Wouldn’t that be a form of hurting It? Apparently not, according to Gan. It got robbed in that deal, in which It lost Its knight and bishop when Denbrough didn’t lose a pawn or position. It was terrified.

It decided to finally show Itself, to spring Its plan into motion.

_ Hello. _

Hopper jumped as he looked up and saw a clown sitting on his desk.

“What the fuck? Who are You?”

_ I’m a lot of things, Jimbo. I am chaos, fear, inspiration. But you can call Me “Pennywise.” _

Hopper stared at It with wonder and a little fear. He thought about reaching for his gun but thought it might be a big mistake. He decided to keep talking. “You’re not from here, are You?”

_ Oh, no. Not at all. I’m from the state of Maine. _ It laughed. _ But nor am I from this world, Jimi Hendrix, to answer your question. _

“I see. And why are You here, Pennywise?”

_Oh, I like you. You’re scared but trying not to show it. Bravo, bravo! Such bravado! _It paused, giving a long pause, and stared at Hopper unblinkingly.

_ I’m here to make a deal. _

“And what is this deal?”

_ I want you to kill Bill Denbrough. _

5

Richie was just about to pull one of the adult magazines he’d stolen from the general store back in Derry from under his mattress when the doorbell rang. He stared at the clock. It was seven.

Knowing his father was in Indianapolis and his mother was probably off at the bar to drink her problems away again, Richie sighed in frustration. He grumbled as he walked to answer the door.

“Shouldn’t you be having dinner right now or—Bev?” Richie stopped his rant as he stared at his only female friend. He immediately felt something was wrong. “What’s wrong?”

Beverly declined to answer as she dropped her bike on the lawn and rushed in to turn on the television in his living room.

“Hey, Bev? Beeeeev? You’re kinda freaking me out here…” said Richie nervously as he entered the living room after locking the door.

Beverly flipped over to the local news channel and watched for Richie’s reaction. Richie’s jaw dropped. On the screen, beside the anchorwoman, was a picture of Bill from last year.

_ “-and reports say that Denbrough defaced the body after death by shooting it multiple times in the head. Local coroner Gary has this to say:” _

_ “Frankly it’s quite disturbing, what happened to the body. It’s a horrorshow and probably the most gruesome sample that’s come under my attention in over twenty years.” _

_ “Police Chief Jim Hopper has declared that the case of the death of Henry Bowers to be ruled as a murder, and that Nancy Wheeler is innocent.” _

Hopper’s voice came on through the television. _ “It’s disgusting how far Denbrough would go to hide his trail. Framing his own neighbor for his own psychopathic crimes is about as bad as it gets. We’re gonna catch him, and we’re gonna hold him in custody for-” _

Beverly turned the television off and stared at Richie. He was shaking.

“What…what the fuck?” he whispered.

“I know. I know. We just…we need a plan.”

“We need to warn Bill.”

Bill listened solemnly as Mike talked about his most recent failed attempt at flirtation with Tracey Nixon.

“And then she smiled and looked kinda bad. Like she felt bad for me. Which is a total bummer, ‘cause I had it all planned out and everything,” said Mike dejectedly, staring at the French fry he’d been dipping in ketchup for the past five minutes.

“I-It’s oh-okay. It wuh-wasn’t meh-meant to wuh-work out,” said Bill, causing Mike to meet his eyes in confusion. “There’s p-p-probably s-some girl who’s guh-gonna come along and y-you two will be h-happier to-together than y-you would be w-with Tracey nuh-Nixon.”

Mike sighed. “I hope you’re right, Bill.”

Suddenly, behind Bill, he heard the doors to the diner slam open and a very familiar voice shouting, “Oh, thank God! Your mom said you’d be here!”

Richie was running up to them, disregarding all the glares given to him by all the people in the diner. “Sorry to interrupt this date, but Bill, you’re in deep shit.”

Bill furrowed his eyebrows as Beverly ran up beside Richie, panting. “Eh-Explain.”

“Jim Hopper’s out to get you. I dunno why, and why now, but he says you killed Henry Bowers and he’s gonna arrest you. It’s all over the news. You better run and hide before he gets here,” Beverly whispered urgently. Bill’s eyes widened.

All four turned around quickly and felt the itchy feeling of dread crawling up their stomachs when they heard police sirens wailing in the distance.

Bill turned to the others as he got up. “Yuh-You guys luh-leave. I gotta guh-go.”

Beverly shook her head fiercely. “We’re not leaving you. I’m running with you.”

Richie nodded. “That’s right. We’re gonna get you outta this mess.”

Mike looked less inclined to agree, but was spared the responsibility of answering when the cruiser, which now had its siren off, parked in the lot beside the diner and Hopper jumped out and rushed in.

“Run,” said Bill, and they all sprinted into the kitchen.

“Hey! Kid, stop! You’re under arrest!” shouted Hopper as he chased them. The customers at the diner watched with an intense interest.

Richie grabbed a knife off the metal kitchen counter and brandished it behind him, causing Hopper to stop to avoid getting stabbed.

“Get the McFuck back, fatass!” Richie screamed. He dropped the knife and then turned and continued running, causing Hopper to swear and to continue the chase.

Richie quickly caught up to the other three, and they made it out of the back door of the kitchen and into the open air. They sprinted away from the diner and back towards the cul-de-sac.

“We have to keep him away from his car!” shouted Mike.

“But our bikes-” began Beverly, but Bill shook his head.

“If wuh-we grab our buh-bikes he’ll just get in the ch-truck and catch us cuh-quick.”

They ran by Melvard’s General Store. “I nuh-need you guys to guh-go home,” he said urgently, panting as his body exercised more than it had in the past two weeks.

“What?! No! No way!” said Richie angrily.

“Bill, we talked about this,” said Beverly sternly. She was about to say more, when suddenly a police siren pierced through the air, this time incredibly close.

“It didn’t work!” cried Mike. “We need to hide!”

A police car different from the cruiser rushed out onto Main Street.

“GO!” Bill bellowed. In the chaos he and Mike ran to the right and Richie and Beverly to the left.

Bill saw this as his opportunity to get his friends out of this.

“I’m guh-gonna go,” he hissed to Mike as they pressed themselves flat against a wall.

“What? You’re just gonna leave them?”

“Th-They’re my f-friends,” Bill snapped.

“Then I’m coming with you.”

Bill hesitated, then nodded.

They ran out of the alley and continued, leaving Beverly and Richie hiding in the alleyway behind the movie theater.

6

“I thought we had a deal, Pennywise. I shook Your hand, which was on fucking fire,” said Hopper angrily as he sat in the cruiser and listened as Powell and Callahan struggled to untangle their bumpers.

_ We did. You still haven’t carried out your end. I make the deal; My end gets completed first. _It sat beside Hopper in the cruiser.

“No, that’s bullshit. I want to see her. I want my daughter.” Hopper’s voice cracked as he said that last word, the thing promised to him by It.

_ Don’t worry, crybaby. You’ll see her. You’ll see! Once you finish your task. _ It laughed hysterically. _ I’ll be long out of your thinning hair by then. You just need to have faith and patience. _

Hopper sighed.

_ Second thoughts, Jimbo? I still don’t really understand the concept of “morality,” as I’m sure that’s what is bothering you. I can’t let you back out of this deal. It’s literally out of My hands now. But I can try to make you feel better about what you’re doing. Answer this for Me: Is a random little boy’s life worth more than that of your daughter’s? Why does he get to live a good life when Sara’s was neither long nor good? _

“It was as God willed it,” Hopper whispered.

It snorted. _ Ah, God. You people believe in this God when you have no proof of Him. But there is Me. I’m clearly here. Yet you don’t kneel before Me and burn incense for Me because we have more in common than you do with God. You humans are so funny. _

_ Tell Me. Look at Me. Where was Yahweh when Death took Sara? Was He kind and merciful? No, He is jealous and spiteful. He rains fire and brimstone on homosexuals and blasphemers, his imperfect creations, while preaching about compassion. _

_ According to your faith, He destroyed Lilith because she was not subservient to Adam. He flooded the Earth and drowned your people because they didn’t need Him anymore. He destroyed your species’ greatest civilization because you threatened His heavenly throne, and splintered your people into a thousand tongues and peoples, a decision that has caused every war that is not a civil war in history. He ordered Abraham to kill his own son as a test. He tortured Job and killed his family to see how faithful he truly was. Tell me: is your God good? No, He is not good. He is a hypocrite. A narcissist, interested only in the luster of His shell in the eyes of His beholders. He is a graceless, ugly thing. _

_ In what we’re doing, there is no God. And you should rejoice, for there are things greater than He. _

7

“Suh-So where are we guh-going?” asked Bill when he finally came back down to Earth. He glanced at Mike.

“Um, I got an idea for a hiding place, but we can’t hide the entire time. We gotta solve this,” Mike said.

“We s-should s-s-stop the car a f-few miles out from our huh-hiding place,” said Bill. Mike nodded.

“Good idea.”

Mike stopped the wagon, which was getting low on gas, on the cliff beside the quarry. It was a long ways away from where Mike had in mind, but that was the point. They wanted Hopper and the other cops to have no way to track them. They would just have to risk being caught between points A and B.

Bill and Mike got out and began the long trek down the cliff.

“What do you have in mind, Bill? What’s your plan?” Mike asked when the reached the bottom. They were going to have to double back two miles, and then walk Eastward for another half-mile. “This way.”

“I nuh-need t-time to think,” said Bill listlessly.

“Alright. We’ll think at the junkyard. C’mon.” Mike’s eyelids felt heavy as they walked through the autumn midnight.

They didn’t talk for the rest of the two and a half miles, with only the occasional grunt of effort or deep breath being the only sounds uttered by the two boys.

When they finally reached the junkyard in which Richie made his deal with It, Mike pointed at the school bus. “Here, c’mon. Let’s set this up.”

They pushed all the scraps of metal aside and placed them in natural looking piles around several cars. They got on the bus and placed the sheet of metal over the door, so it would look like the bus hadn’t been touched in awhile.

They threw their backpacks down at the back of the bus and sat across the aisle one row up.

Bill looked at Mike gratefully. “S-Sleep. I guh-gotta th-think. I’ll k-keep watch.”

“You sure?” Mike was almost asleep when he said that.

“Mhmm.”

And then Mike was out cold, lying on one of the seats. Bill sat with his back against the window of the bus. He leaned his head back.

_ So we’re in deep shit right now. Richie wasn’t kidding. Now what do we do? _

_ Rules to the game: do not involve my friends, and don’t get anyone hurt. Objective: clear my name. _

Bill snorted quietly to himself. As if it would be so easy. He had an inkling of what was going on. He could at least guess which higher being influenced this chain of events.

_ Had It heard our planning? Probably. And It got pissed. Or scared. So It made a deal with Hopper. _

So It’s fighting back, and using Hopper to get to Bill and to presumably kill him. Bill’s mind was exhausted and running on fumes, but felt a brief moment of clarity like none other he had ever experienced before in his life.

_ So It’s fighting back. Which means It's vulnerable. Which means It is scared and in danger. _ Bill’s mind thought these tactical points with a cold precision, like a surgeon in the middle of an operation. _ It lost Henry and Richie in our deal. And I still have almost all my pieces. Except I can’t hurt It. Fuck. But what counts as “hurting?” I can plan for Its demise. That’s why It’s scared. It doesn’t know, either. _

Bill continued to sit and think, until a plan formed in his head and fell apart just as quickly. _ No, that’s not going to work. Hopper’s gonna get there before they do. _

This went on into the early dawn.

As the sky turned from black to a dark indigo, Mike woke up. “Wha-What time is it?” he asked groggily.

Bill jumped, startled. He looked down at his watch and squinted at the numbers in the dark. “Five fuh-forty.”

Mike groaned. He sat up and cracked his back against the seat. “So do you have a plan?”

Bill shook his head tiredly.

“Go to sleep, Bill. I’ll keep watch and I’ll wake you up if something happens,” Mike said. Bill wanted to protest, but was so exhausted he almost fell asleep immediately.

Mike sat in his seat and limbered himself by twisting and shuffling. He watched Bill sleep for awhile, and then, realizing his mind felt much clearer now thanks to some rest, he began to think of a plan.

_ We need Hopper alive to clear Bill’s name. If Hopper dies it’s going to be blamed on Bill and his life will be permanently ruined. _

Mike also suspected Its involvement. Since hearing Richie’s nightmarish recount of the Losers’ experience with It, Mike began to understand Its ways.

_ It’s a manipulator. It doesn’t do things by brute force because It can’t. It’s going to be smart and tough to beat. I need Bill awake and well to make a plan. _

Just as indigo faded to a pale lavender, he heard a strange noise, like static. It was his Supercom.

Rushing over to his backpack as quietly as he could, Mike took the Supercom out of his backpack.

_ “Dustin to Mike. This is Dustin to Mike. Do you copy?” _

Mike grinned with relief as he put the Supercom to his mouth. “Yeah, I copy. Over.”

_ “Oh thank God. Are you safe?” _

“Yeah, I am. And say ‘over’ when you’re done talking. Over.”

_ “Jeez, alright. Well I’m glad you’re okay. Are you with Bill? Over.” _

Mike narrowed his eyes. _ It won’t hurt to give away whether or not I’m with Bill. If he asks “where,” I’ll know he’s a Lando. _“Yeah. Over.”

_ “Okay, well, Hopper just came by my house to ‘have a talk’ even though it’s six in the morning. Honestly, six in the morning! Son of a bitch, what a jackass! Anyway, he told me he saw you with Bill last night. I’m pretty sure you heard happened with Bill?” _

Mike waited impatiently. _ “Oh, Jesus Christ, Mike. Alright, overrrr.” _

“Yeah, I heard. That’s why I’m helping him. Over.”

_ “Yeah, well, he said you’re an accomplice now, ‘cause you helped him get away. So he wants you under arrest, too. Over.” _

Mike felt cold. “Al-Alright. Just…Just know that I’m alright, okay? Let my family know. Over.”

_ “Yeah, don’t worry. I got your family. I’ll tell our friends, too. I’m more worried about you, dude. And Hopper’s going around to all our friends and interrogating them. You got any loose ends? Over.” _

Mike shook his head, and then realized Dustin wouldn’t be able to see him. “None. Over.”

_ “Alright. Well, I don’t know how you and Bill are gonna get out of this one. We’re gonna try our best to fix things, alright? I’m just not sure it’s gonna work. Over.” _

“Thanks, Dustin. I-” Mike choked up a little. _ Control yourself, Mike. _“I owe you a big one. I’ll see ya soon. Over and out.”

Mike sat back down on his seat and stared at nothing as the sun began to peek over the horizon. _ I’m a fucking criminal. Oh my God. _

He sat there for two hours, wondering how the hell he was going to get out of this situation. He heard a shuffling noise and saw Bill waking up.

“We need a plan,” said Bill groggily after he stretched and groaned.

“I have something to tell you first. So while you were sleeping, Dustin called me on my Supercom. Hopper’s going around asking all our friends information about us. And I’m wanted, too, now.”

Bill closed his eyes in dismay. “Fuck!” he yelled at the ceiling.

“I haven’t been able to come up with something in the past two or three hours. I think we need to work together to get a plan going,” said Mike.

“I’m s-s-so s-sorry uh-” began Bill guiltily, but Mike waved it aside with his hand.

“Don’t be sorry. I chose to help you. You gave me a chance to walk away, and I didn’t take it. We’re gonna fix this together,” said Mike firmly.

Bill paused for a moment, staring at Mike with intense gratitude.

“Alright, so? What do we know about It?”

8

“Uh, what the fuck did you just say?” said Nancy angrily as Hopper finished his explanation. She had her hands on her hips and was staring down Police Chief Jim Hopper. They stood in the Wheeler entryway.

Hopper had stopped at the Wheeler residence after his visit to the Hendersons’.

“Language!” came Ted Wheeler’s voice from the living room.

“I understand you might be upset-” began Hopper, but Nancy was too angry.

“No! No, don’t explain anything to me, you stupid man! You’re looking for the wrong guy. I killed Bowers in self-defense because he was trying to kill my brother and his friends. You said so yourself in the report! It was ‘self-defense,’ you said. Who paid you to slander Bill Denbrough?” Nancy said, seeing red.

“I’m, uh, I-” Hopper was nervous at how close she’d gotten to the real deal.

“I see. So I was right. You’re just another crooked cop. You really shouldn’t have gotten my brother involved, Hopper. It was a dumb move. Who knows what would happen when the town finds out? You’ll be so ashamed. Hated by everyone,” said Nancy loftily, calming down after recognizing a potential way out for her brother, hoping beyond hope her ploy would cause Hopper to back down.

Panicked, Hopper moved forward, looking to subdue her and handcuff her. She backed away.

_ “RAPE! RAPE! HOPPER’S TRYING TO RAPE ME!” _she let out an ear-piercing shriek. Hopper backed away, quickly.

“Excuse me, what?!” cried Karen as she ran down from her room, instantly in “concerned mother” mode.

Hopper laughed uneasily. “Listen, Karen. It was just a misunderstanding. You know how teenagers can be. Especially when they’re upset.”

“I think you should leave now, Hopper. You can come back once you clear my son’s name,” said Karen coldly.

Hopper was panicking internally. Nancy knew his secret. He couldn’t let that go. He had to lock her up. He decided to talk to distract them from his hand reaching for his taser. “Now, let’s be civil, here, Karen…”

Nancy’s eyes widened. Hopper knew she’d seen his hand reach down. He was about to rush it and grab the taser flagrantly when he felt something sharp poke against his back.

“What’d I tell you, big guy? Get your hand away from the gun, or you’re getting a third nipple,” said Richie Tozier, pressing a kitchen knife against his back.

“Okay, so we agree that It is influencing Hopper in some way?” asked Mike for confirmation. Bill nodded.

“Right now we can’t go back or we’d get arrested. Something’s gonna ‘accidentally’ happen while we’re in jail and you’re gonna be dead. So we have to-”

“Defeat It,” Bill finished grimly. The sun was almost completely over the horizon.

“How?”

Bill sighed. “Wuh-When we were in Derry, I ruh-read a lot uh-about It and s-s-stuff like It. The way t-to defeat It is th-through the r-Ritual of Chüd.”

“The Ritual of ‘chewed?’”

“Yeah. It’s a buh-battle of the wits. You buh-bite down on Its tuh-tongue and you t-tell jokes to each uh-other. First to luh-laugh loses.”

“What?” Mike asked slowly.

“Th-That’s wuh-what it s-said in the buh-book,” said Bill feebly, having no idea whether the ritual would work or not.

“Well, where is It? We need to actually meet with It to do the ritual.”

“Hmm.” Bill scratched his cheek thoughtfully. Its lair was in Derry. They could go back there but it would just be too far. There’d be no convenient transportation, they had no money, and Derry was under federal jurisdiction. So there was no way they were going back.

“Wait a minute. How’s It even here, anyway? I thought Richie said Its sphere of influence is only on Derry?” said Mike.

Bill nodded. “It’s only a-able to be fuh-physically in Derry. It can physically uh-attack us there. Here, It’s luh-like a guh-ghost. It cuh-can make deals, th-though. Yuh-You gotta luh-let it do s-somthing,” he guessed.

“So It’s basically the devil. It manipulates you into doing what It wants,” Mike surmised. 

Bill nodded. “I th-think. If It cuh-could, It would’ve kuh-killed me al-already.”

“So how do we get It to reveal Itself to face you? It won’t show Itself easily. You need to see It to do the ritual.”

Bill’s eyes lit up. “I guh-got it.”

“What?”

“I nuh-need to go back.”

“Are you crazy?!”

“It’s with huh-Hopper. It’s near him. That’s why It duh-doesn’t know where we a-are. It’s s-s-stuck with Hopper.”

“So you’re gonna walk up to the Police Chief, who is trying to kill you, and has a gun, and you’re going to talk to the invisible thing right next to him?”

“Yup.”

“So where’s Hopper?”

“Yuh-Your house.”

9

Hopper put his hands up. It slapped Its forehead in frustration from beside Hopper. _ Oh, goody. They’re here. _

Richie’s hand that was pressing the knife against Hopper’s back was shaking. It was clear he had very little idea what he was doing, and was only threatening him because of what Hopper was about to do to Nancy.

Hopper considered taking a swing at Richie and taking him out, but decided it would be pointless. The rest of the Losers and the Party stood behind Richie, glaring. Hopper was big, but not so big he’d be able to take out ten kids.

“Yeah. Th-That’s right, you bastard. You fuck with my friend and my brother and I’m gonna hurt you,” Richie threatened.

_ I’m real scared, Tozier. I know your body well, kid. You are probably one of the scrawniest people on this planet. _Only Hopper could hear It. None of the children reacted. Hopper’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

_ Why won’t It kill him? It should be able to easily. Unless… _He gasped.

“Hey! Watch it, bub! You got a knife to your back and you’re doing breathing exercises?” said Richie shakily. He adjusted his glasses with his other, sweaty hand.

“You can’t hurt us, Pennywise,” said Hopper quietly, turning to the clown beside him. Its eyes widened.

_ What? No! I can kill him easily! I just like watching you get out of these situations! _

“Um…Did you just say ‘Pennywise?’” asked Beverly anxiously, sharing a glance with Richie.

“Then do it,” said Hopper, ignoring the children behind him, despite knowing one wrong move could kill him. “Or the deal’s off.”

_ You can’t break the deal! It’s not possible! _

“I made a mistake, Pennywise. I fucked up,” said Hopper, closing his eyes and breathing hard. “The kid’s innocent. I want out. The deal’s off.”

_No, I can’t do that! I told you, it’s not possible to get out of this deal! When you see the kid your body’s going to try to kill him whether you want to or not!_

“Hopper made a deal,” Richie whispered to the people behind him.

“And he’s trying to break the deal,” said Beverly hopefully.

But Richie shook his head. “It’s not possible to break it,” he said slowly, turning to look back at Hopper, whose back was still against the knife. “He’ll try to kill him whether he wants to or not.”

Beverly gulped.

_ Might as well make it a glorious kill, eh? _

Hopper groaned, and suddenly, the front door, which had just been closed by Stan, opened again, shining the early morning light brightly into the entryway. Everyone turned and stared as Bill Denbrough entered the hall, his blue, frozen-hell eyes blazing. He smiled grimly as Mike emerged from behind him.

“Hello, e-everyone. Wh-What’d I miss?” asked Bill.

10

Hopper immediately turned to sock Richie in the face. Richie flew against the wall and fell to the floor, unconscious. Everyone but Mike and Bill ran over to check on him, leaving the hallway clear between Bill and Hopper.

Hopper reached down for his gun, muttering “No, no, no,” the entire time. His arm moved slowly and mechanically, guided by a force outside his body.

Bill pushed Mike over to the side and charged Hopper. “Stop!”

He grabbed and pulled on Hopper’s arm, which was still going at that slow, methodical pace. Everyone turned to witness the chaos.

Hopper’s arm shot out of Bill’s grasp and punched him in the face, hard. Blood immediately began flowing out of Bill’s nostrils. He fell to the floor, dazed.

“Bill!” Beverly screamed. She grabbed the knife Richie dropped and stabbed Hopper’s arm, which had just been returning to grab for his gun, only more quickly this time. Hopper groaned in pain when the knife sliced through a nerve in his forearm and his entire right arm went numb. Beverly jumped backwards before Hopper could retaliate.

Bill got up slowly. He looked to Hopper, who was trying to reach around his large waist with his left arm unsuccessfully, and thought _ To hell with this. I need to beat It. _

In the span of a second, which felt like ten to Bill, he felt a sudden click in his brain, and his head turned on its own to right beside Hopper, on the stairs. It was an instinctual urge, a Shine, that guided his head. And he saw, to both his astonishment and expectation, It.

Five seconds had already passed in Bill’s mind. He looked at It in the eye, and saw that It was in Its Pennywise the Dancing Clown form. And he saw Its eyes widen in shock and a little fear as Bill suddenly looked at It, and _ saw _It.

Bill smiled viciously. “Checkmate_._”

“What the fuck is Bill doing?” cried Eddie.

“Don’t touch him! He’s trying to stop It!” Mike screamed.

Beverly rushed at Hopper, who was now approaching Bill, who stood immobile with his bloody nose, staring at some point on the stairs.

“Help me!” she cried.

She, Mike, Dustin, Ben, and the other Mike all rushed towards Hopper, while Karen, Nancy, Eddie, Will, and Stan all stayed to tend to Richie. Ben jumped on Hopper with a fierce roar, his one hundred and sixty pounds forcing Hopper to bend over. Mike Hanlon kicked the back of Hopper’s left leg, and it buckled and Hopper collapsed on his knees.

“Stop me,” he groaned at Beverly, who grabbed his handcuffs.

“I’m trying!” she yelled.

Mike Wheeler pulled Hopper’s good arm back as far as he could to make the cuffing easier. But it was so strong, it was still moving forward, and pulling Mike, sliding, along the linoleum floor.

Beverly cuffed Hopper’s right arm, the one she stabbed, and was reaching around Hopper’s back to grab his other arm when it slipped out of Mike’s sweaty hands and rushed back, punching Mike in the face and making him land on his butt.

Hopper reached around and elbowed Ben, who had just gotten off, in the stomach. He wheezed and retched on the floor.

“Hey!” yelled Mike Hanlon, and he punched Hopper in the face. There was a brief pause.

Then Hopper looked at him and said, “I’m really sorry,” and punched Mike Hanlon in the temple, knocking him out cold.

“No!” Beverly screamed. She dodged Hopper’s punches and swings, a skill perfected by years of avoiding her father’s punishments, and jumped on him and locked her arms around his neck.

His body would not obey him at all now. He couldn’t reach behind him to grab Beverly, as his right arm was numb and cuffed and his left couldn’t reach her, so his legs walked backward as quickly as he could against the wall.

Beverly groaned on the collision but didn’t let go.

Hopper moved forward again, and then slammed back against the wall.

Beverly gasped in pain as she felt a rib crack. His collisions against the wall caused her arms to tighten around his neck, restricting his airflow. But his body seemed not to care.

“Listen, kid. I’ve got no control over my body right now. You need to get off or you’re gonna get seriously hurt,” grunted Hopper urgently as he walked forward again to wind up.

“I can’t let you kill him,” Beverly groaned.

Hopper sighed, and, in a brief moment of self-control, spun around quickly. Beverly was peeled off of his back by her momentum, and she landed on Mike Hanlon, the wind knocked out of her. Mike Wheeler, who’d just come to, ran over to help her up.

Beverly grabbed his arm and pulled herself up. Her ribs burned and she felt sore all over. But that didn’t register at all with her. She just watched in horror as Hopper walked up to Bill and put his hand around his throat.

11

_ -you can’t hurt me, Billy boy. We made a deal and you can’t break it. _

_ But then why can I do the ritual? Face it, Pennywise. Whoever’s controlling the universe wants You dead. And I don’t blame Them. _

Bill saw Its eyes betray Its fear. He grinned in victory.

_ Pennywise, You messed with the wrong kid all those months ago. You ate Georgie Denbrough. That was the biggest mistake You’ve made Your entire meaningless life. And now I’m gonna kill You. _

_ -you can’t hurt me. _ It grinned now, menacingly. _ Loopholes be damned. You can’t hurt Me. _

It jumped off the stairs and pushed Bill, who went flying.

_ -you’re in my world now. _

And Bill fell on his back and saw his slightly translucent body still standing where he had just stood. He pushed himself up on the linoleum floor and watched as It began to approach him.

_ -time to float. _

Whatever confidence Bill had upon entering, his hubris, it was all gone now. He realized he had charged into this fight with no plan at all. And now it would all come crashing down. He breathed heavily and crawled backwards.

_ (he) _

He watched Hopper approach his body, and everyone try to subdue him. He saw Ben jump on him, like a massive sandbag.

_ (thrusts) _

He saw Mike Hanlon kick Hopper, forcing him on his knees.

_ (his) _

Mike Wheeler grabbed his arm and slid forward.

_ (fists) _

Beverly cuffed his right arm and began reaching for the left.

_ (against) _

But then everything went wrong. Hopper punched Mike Wheeler and Mike Hanlon and elbowed Ben. Beverly jumped on his back and was crushed against the wall.

_ No! _Bill could feel his tears of horror in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

It, who had been standing still for a moment, jumped up and landed directly in front of Bill.

_ -what’d I tell ya, Billy? You’re hopeless. _

_ He thrusts his fists against the posts. _

_ -what are you doing? _

_ And still insists he sees the ghosts. _

_ -stop! _

Bill looked into Its eyes and saw pain. Confidence was Its weakness!

And fooling himself was one of Bill’s greatest strengths.

_ I’m not afraid of you. I’m done being afraid of you. He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts. _

_ -NO! _

It flicked Bill on the forehead, hard. Bill went flying past everything he’d ever known and into a new frontier.

He passed things of impressive mass and indescribable properties. He passed Ozymandias’s pillars in the sand. He saw King Arthur’s sword in the stone. He saw good things. Bad things. Incomprehensible things. Concrete things.

He passed a fleet of Great Ones, Elder Ones, and other towering titans. He saw Cthulhu and Cronus, Apep and Paimon, and he could not understand them. He could not understand their language, their forms, their reasons.

He could hear It screaming with glee as It cut through the dark spaces, hands in a diving position as It dove for Its kill.

_ He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts. _

And the dive was cut short as It hunched over in pain, and the beings witnessing the defeat of It rumbled with an emotion unknown to man.

_ He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts. _

_ -stop! _

And they were moving again, It doing so desperately and hastily.

_ He thrusts his fists against the posts and still insists he sees the ghosts. _

_ -no! _

They were hurtling towards some unknown barrier, an end to the universe and the start of another. Bill could suddenly understand it was the Macroverse, a place with different rules. Bill understood he did not belong, and entering it would destroy his mind and leave him either catatonic or omnipotent. He knew why It was so eager to force him in there.

_ Amidst the mists and fiercest frosts,_

_With barest wrists and stoutest boasts,_

_ He thrusts his fists against the posts,_

_And still insists he sees the ghosts. _

_ -stop, please! _

And they were suddenly back at Mike’s house. Bill stood where he once stood and saw Hopper holding him off the ground by his throat, and Beverly tugging as hard as she could on the offending arm and sobbing in despair. His face was turning blue. He saw his friends grab at Hopper, trying to pull him down. He saw Mike stabbing Hopper repeatedly in the arm, but nothing worked. The arm was destined to fulfill this final duty, and it would do so with grace and elegance.

Bill watched a detached senselessness, as if he were not dying by strangulation in a man’s hands right this moment. He knew, and could not explain how in the world he understood all these things, he was going to emerge victorious. It was only a matter of how.

_ I told You You messed with the wrong kid. Georgie Denbrough was too good for You. _

_ -stop! Please! You’re making a mistake! I’ll give you anything! Money! Fame! Riches! Infinite power! Your own galaxy! Please! No! _

Everyone stared at Hopper in disbelief as his arm lowered Bill onto the ground and released his grip.

“What?” whispered Beverly tearfully, almost afraid to believe her eyes.

“Woah,” said Mike, pointing to the stairs with the arm not holding the knife. Everyone turned.

Standing on those stairs was Pennywise the Dancing Clown, now visible. Its eyes stared directly at Bill, unmoving, as Its mouth opened and closed, as if unable to breathe.

And then they heard it.

_ You’re making a mistake! I’ll give you anything! Money! Fame! Riches! Infinite power! Your own galaxy! Please! No! _

Then Bill spoke, though still in trance. “You’re done. Apologize to Georgie for me.”

_ NO! _

Suddenly It let out a piercing shriek as Its orange hair began falling out in clumps. It tried to jump and make a grab for Bill, but couldn’t muster the strength and collapsed at the bottom of the stairs. It shook and frothed at the mouth, skin coming off and floating up in large flakes of plaster-like material. Its strange gravity-defying blood flowed out of Its multiple wounds.

Bill watched with the satisfaction only capable of manifesting through sweet revenge. He walked forward, now out of the trance and ritual, and knelt down beside It. It stared at him with scared eyes.

_ Please. Please don’t make Me go. _

Bill smiled serenely, and It closed Its eyes and collapsed in a pile of white dust. It blew away in some invisible wind and disappeared.

All was silent for a moment as Bill got up, and then the hall erupted in cheers.

Beverly ran to Bill and pulled him into her tightest hug yet.

He looked at everyone over her shoulder. Mike gave him a proud little grin, and all the Losers looked at him with an almost frightening amount of admiration. Richie was already conscious and Mike Hanlon was just coming to. He sighed in relief. Everyone was alright.

He pulled back from the hug and looked in Beverly’s bloodshot eyes. He saw fear, relief, pride, and love in those calm coastal waters, and it was the last he craved the most. He smiled, and she smiled back. He leaned in and kissed her. He put all those emotions he saw in her eyes and put them into their kiss, hoping she understood, and she gasped against his bloody lips.

They pulled apart, and Bill smiled at her again, a little dazedly. She returned the same smile.

“Aren’t they cute?” Richie whispered to Mike, who grinned.

“Oh my God, Bill,” Beverly whispered. He could feel her breath on his lips.

“Yeah?” His voice was hoarse and his throat sore.

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Me too.”

That was when Richie decided he’d been generous enough. “Yowza, yowza, YOWZA, guys! Give ol’ Richie a hug too, eh? That was something, Big Bill! Did you see me with that knife? I was like a goddamn ninja!”

Bill laughed as he pulled everyone in a hug, and everyone else began doing the same with the others.

He turned to Hopper last of all, who’d been quiet the entire time. He put his hand on Hopper’s right arm, which was now completely healed, despite it having been just five minutes since it had been riddled with stab wounds.

“I get it,” Bill croaked.

“Doesn’t make it right, kid.”

“I know. I’m sorry about your daughter.”

Hopper’s eyes widened. “I’ll make sure to get you out of this mess, alright? I’m sorry for everything.”

Two hours later, as the eleven friends all sat together for the last time on Bill’s lawn after calling in sick, and Beverly had her head on Bill’s shoulder and everything in the universe felt right, Bill said those three words to her in that different way for the first and last time in what would be eleven years.


	6. Epilogue: Shine on You Crazy Diamond

“To think that what has looked forward must also look back, and that each life makes its own imitation of immortality: a wheel. Or so Bill Denbrough thinks on those early mornings after dreaming: when he almost remembers his childhood, and the friends with whom he shared it.”

\- Stephen King, _ It _

1

_Hawkins April 24, 1998 _

“Okay. Here goes,” said Bill, ringing the doorbell to the Wheeler residence.

A teenage girl with golden blond hair and enormous eyes answered the door. “Hello. May I help you?”

“Is Mike home?”

She nodded and turned around. “Mike!” she yelled.

“Coming, Holly!” Mike called. “Jeez, gimme a break,” he muttered as he descended the stairs. He stopped when he saw the group of people standing outside the door. He knew they were coming but it still felt so weird.

“Well oh well. Look who we have here,” said Richie, grinning slightly. Even after all these years apart, with all their different experiences, they still managed to look exactly the same.

Mike walked towards him quickly and pulled him into a tight hug. “Oh my God,” he gasped, feeling slightly lightheaded. Holly looked back and forth between Richie and Mike, completely lost.

“I’m…gonna go now,” she said weakly, and ran up the stairs.

Mike pulled back to look at Richie properly. “Holy shit. I-I can’t believe I forgot about you,” he said quietly.

“Me too,” said Richie sadly. “Looks like we were never meant to be together, huh? Twins who grew up separately: that’s me and you. Gotta say, though, I think I’m now clearly the more attractive twin.”

Mike laughed. He looked at the people behind Richie. “Oh, Jesus. I think we’re gonna need some introductions, here.”

2

_Hawkins October 3, 1987 _

_"Modern science has been a voyage into the unknown, with a lesson in humility waiting at every stop. Our common sense intuitions can be mistaken. Our preferences don't count. We do not live in a privileged reference frame. If we crave some cosmic purpose, then let us find ourselves a worthy goal.” _

The projection stopped, and all the kids groaned as Mr. Clarke paused the _ Cosmos _ episode.

“Alright, everyone, that’ll be all for today! We’ll finish this up again next week, alright?” he said.

The class cheered as they suddenly remembered it was Friday.

“Have a good weekend, everybody. Remember to be curious!” said Mr. Clarke as he stood by the door.

“Have a good weekend, my Lord,” said Dustin cheekily as he passed.

“Same to you, Dustin. I hope you all have a great weekend!”

“Hey, Mr. Clarke? Do you happen to have some extra worksheets on-?” Ben began, but Bill and Beverly both dragged him away.

“Gotta love Mr. Clarke,” said Lucas, grinning.

“He’s great,” Eddie agreed.

“Carl Sagan, though. Man, can he give a speech!” exclaimed Bill.

“I used to watch _ Cosmos _all the time,” said Beverly nostalgically.

They stopped outside Mrs. McFarlane’s math class just as Richie emerged.

“Hyello, my comrades,” he said in a Russian accent.

“Hi, Richie,” said Mike.

“Woah!” Troy bumped into Richie purposefully. “We got both frogfaces here!”

“Troy! Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? ‘Cause I would!” said Richie, causing Troy to turn purple yet again.

“C’mon,” he muttered to James, who glared at them all as he passed.

“Shall we go get lunch?” Bill asked.

“‘Shall?’ What are you, British?” said Richie, laughing and jumping up ahead of them. “We shall, my good sir.”

They walked together to the cafeteria.

“Dang it! I forgot to pack my lunch!” cried Stan.

“Well, looks like you’re gonna have to buy it, Stan the Man. I know how much it hurts, having to pay,” said Richie.

Stan flipped him off and went to join the line.

“Any plans for the weekend?” asked Mike.

They all shook their heads and looked at Bill. Bill took no heed to their attention and was poking his sandwich with his index finger with a little smile on his face.

“Bill?”

“What? Sorry, uh, what were you guys talking about?”

Beverly shook her head and smiled fondly. “What’ve you got planned for the weekend?” she asked.

Bill shrugged. “Anything you guys want to do?”

They all shrugged as well.

“Well…” They all turned to Mike, who smiled smugly. “We can show you how to play D&D, if you guys have nothing to do…”

Bill rolled his eyes. “God, you just won’t let that go, huh?”

“There’s nothing to let go of, Bill. I’m just offering a helpful suggestion since you seem to lack imagination.”

“Well…” Bill looked around. “Anyone not wanna play?”

Nobody moved. Bill sighed. “Fine.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Denbrough.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Stan returned to the table with his “lunch.”

“God, Stan. Why the long face? It’s not _ that _ expensive,” Richie chuckled.

“Fuck off, Richie,” Stan snapped.

“Woah, okay, jeez. Calm down, there,” said Richie warily.

The atmosphere at the table was suddenly tense after Richie shrank back like a hurt puppy. Nobody said anything until Dustin decided to break the silence.

“Okay. So, we need to create characters for you guys.”

“Um, I use, um…” said Ben nervously.

“C’mon, Haystack! Just do something!” said Richie impatiently.

They all sat around the small table in Mike’s basement. Stan declined the invitation, citing some vague “synagogue business.” Mike Hanlon was at his new farm, working. They were growing increasingly impatient as Ben, who didn’t understand the game at all despite Mike’s thirty-minute explanation, took almost five minutes each turn.

“This was a great idea, Mike,” said Bill dryly.

“Oh, shut up, Bill. Look how much fun they’re having!” said Mike cheerfully, waving his hand towards the others from behind his board.

Ben was now arguing with Richie, with Eddie trying to make peace, Dustin and Lucas were debating loudly about how babies were made, and Will and Beverly were in a conversation. None of them paid attention to the game.

“Okay. Maybe not,” Mike admitted. “Anyone wanna do something else?”

Immediately all heads turned to him and began nodding.

Bill guffawed, and Mike punched his arm.

“Well, I have Monopoly,” Mike offered weakly from inside the closet. Everyone behind him groaned.

“Mike, we always have a big fight we play Monopoly. Seriously, someone always gets mad,” Eddie warned.

“Like, friendship-ending fights,” said Ben gravely.

“Well it’s either this or we’re taking turns with the yo-yo,” Mike snapped.

Beverly opened her mouth to say something, but Richie elbowed her. “Oh no, you don’t,” he said. “We’re playing Monopoly.”

She smirked.

3

_Hawkins October 10, 1987 _

“The second estimate is in, and, in agreement with the advanced estimate, the third fiscal quarter of the year nineteen eighty seven has been a contraction,” said Larry Kline grimly as he addressed the congregation gathered before him.

Bill sat beside his parents in the town hall, dressed in a button-down and khakis, by his parents’ insistence. He stared at the back of Beverly’s head where she sat three rows before him, hair flaming red and terribly obvious even in the large and colorful crowd. He could not understand half the words the mayor was using.

“Our gross domestic product has risen slightly, thanks to the arrival of our friends from Derry, but so has unemployment. Business has suffered as supply has overtaken demand. Prices have been slashed and in just the last month, four stores have shut down, and two storeowners have declared bankruptcy. Twenty four jobs were lost.

“This cannot continue. Our economy cannot take this strain.”

Bill, who had resorted to picking his nails in boredom, raised his head in interest.

“With President Reagan’s recent announcement of the slaughter of the bear that terrorized the town of Derry, and the subsequent reopening of the town, I say it is in all our best interests to part ways.”

The hall erupted in noise, ranging from “hurrah’s” from the unemployed to the angry protests of Derry residents. Bill leaned back against his chair, deep in thought. He remembered President Reagan’s announcement from behind his desk in the oval office.

_ “We have found the creature that terrorized Derry, Maine. It was a North American grizzly bear, four hundred and seventy pounds, female, thirteen years old. She will grow no older.” _

The President looked through the C-SPAN camera, which televised the event to the channel Bill watched from his home. He winked. Bill gasped, and then smiled uncertainly.

“Derry business has suffered. Hawkins business has suffered. I truly overestimated the economy of our small town, and if we continue like so, we will suffer together.

“I know we have made new friends, and it breaks my heart to see them go. But it must be done to ensure the preservation of both our cultures.”

Richie stood up in the crowd before Kline even finished speaking. _ Shut up, Richie. Please shut up. Don't make it worse, _ Bill begged in his head.

“Is it even legal to force us back? Sounds kind of like that Andrew Johnson guy,” said Richie loudly. Bill groaned as Maggie Tozier pulled him back down to his seat amidst loud applause from several Derry residents.

Kline now had an ugly look on his face. “Again, it is best in all our interests to disentangle our two economies. I've already taken the liberty of creating a plan so that we do so in a safe and timely manner."

Bill looked back forward and saw Beverly staring at him, her eyes wide with alarm. Bill nodded defeatedly. She hung her head.

Who knew the death of It could be so terrible?

4

_Hawkins April 24, 1998 _

They all sat around the coffee table in the living room as Mike called every single one of his friends. He had called them all after calling Bill the night before, and they all traveled to Hawkins as quickly as they could.

“Dustin’s about twenty minutes away,” said Mike, putting the phone down.

“Say, who’s living next door, now?” asked Bill.

Before Mike could answer, Richie gasped. “Dude, you don’t have your stutter anymore! It’s just like after you kicked Its ass!”

Bill paused thoughtfully. “Holy shit,” he breathed, laughing.

Mike grinned. “That’s pretty cool. To answer your question: it’s a family of four called the Tudors.”

“Wow. Royal,” said Ben.

“Sure. They’re alright. Kind of quiet, though,” said Mike. “So what happened with you guys? Your lives turn out alright?”

“Nice way of phrasing it,” Bev snorted.

“Well, we managed to forget everything that happened in Hawkins,” said Eddie.

Mike pursed his lips. “Hmm. I do want to know what the hell happened there. But I’d like to wait for-”

Just then the doorbell rang.

“Speak of the devil! Er, devils,” said Mike, getting up to answer the door. They all followed him. 

He opened the door to see Lucas and Max.

“Holy shit!” said Lucas happily, and they all greeted each other, again, and he introduced them to Max, his girlfriend.

“Um, hi. I’m sure there’s a good reason Lucas hasn’t told me about you guys, _ right Lucas_?” she added the last part on rather fiercely, causing Lucas to gulp and nod hastily.

Richie snorted.

Will arrived next, again causing a roar of greetings and introductions. Next was Dustin, and then finally El, who’d gone out shopping just before the Losers arrived.

“Um, Mike?” she asked, confused, when she unlocked the door to a cacophony of voices and walked to the living room to see two Mikes, four friends, and five strangers.

“Yes? Oh, um, yeah, this is gonna be a long story,” said Mike. “Bill, why don’t you spin the thread? Your stutter’s gone and I’ve heard you’re a pretty damn good writer.”

“Do it!”

“Yeah, c’mon Bill!”

“Yeah, come on me, Bill.”

“Beep beep Richie.”

Bill blushed modestly, causing Bev to elbow him and grin proudly.

“Well, I guess I’ll give it a shot. It all started on a rainy day, in the fall of nineteen eighty seven. I was under the weather, and I made this paper boat for my brother…”

As Bill told the story in its entirety, every single memory came back to him like dead pixels on a television being shaken back to life.

Bill watched as Max’s and El’s mouths hung open in shock and wonder at the tale. He saw his friends’ eyes light up as they finally found that hidden memory that had been eluding them for so long. Everything came back to them, all of them, who had been forced to forget such a traumatic and important moment in their lives.

They were all silent for a moment.

“So why’d we all remember?” asked Mike Hanlon.

Bill and Mike met each others’ eyes, and suddenly had a feeling the other knew exactly what he was going to say. “The Shine,” they said simultaneously.

“The what?”

“It’s complicated. That’s not really important right now,” said Bill.

“No, let’s talk about it, Bill,” began Mike savagely. El looked worried. “Remember those ‘feelings’ I’d get from time to time? Or that mental itch I kept talking about? That you guys all laughed at? That’s the Shine.”

“Yeesh, alright. Calm down, Wheeler. Who hurt you?” Max sneered.

“What’s important right now is that It’s gone,” said Bill hurriedly, seeing Mike open his mouth to retort. “I don’t know why our memories were erased, but I always had this feeling in my head that we were being pushed together as a team by some-”

“Other being,” said Will quietly.

Bill nodded. “I think whatever that Great One was, They had no use for us once It died. They pushed us together when They needed us and we naturally drifted apart when They didn't."

“That’s pretty shit,” said Dustin.

“Yeah, it is,” said Bev. “So what happened with you guys?”

Mike and El exchanged a humorous glance. After a long pause, Mike spoke, eyes gleaming. “Oh, you have no idea.”

5

_Derry November 1, 1987 _

“Hello, hi. I would, um, just like Mike to call me whenever he can. This is Richie Tozier, his twi-” said Richie dejectedly.

Suddenly there was a beep on the other end.

“Hey, Richie,” came Mike’s voice.

“Hi, Mike! How are you?” Richie felt a lot happier.

“I’m good. I’m working on this epic campaign, not that you’d really care.”

“I don’t, no.”

“Well, it’s gonna be epic. I’m just leaving it at that.”

“Cool.”

“Sorry about not answering the phone earlier. When you started talking I had no-”

“-idea who I was?” asked Richie, grinning. “Yeah, that happens to me too sometimes.”

“Yeah. Cool,” Mike breathed. “How’s it going with your parents?”

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop through the static. Richie sighed. “It’s the same old. I’m pissed and I love my parents and all but neither of them’ve got the balls to apologize. My mom always pretends it never happened and my dad’s just barely even here.”

Mike sighed as well. “Yeah. Same here. Sort of. My dad’s always been, well, my dad, but things with my mom’ve been getting worse.”

They both sighed again.

“Not to sound bent or anything, but I miss you,” Richie said.

“I miss you too.”

There was silence for awhile.

“Alright, I’ll call you soon.”

“Bye. Take care.”

And that phone call was the last contact Richie Tozier and Mike Wheeler would have for eleven years. They would slowly forget each other, bit by bit, memories of the other becoming foggy and vague.

Was Mike his brother, or his best friend? Richie couldn’t quite remember as he lay in bed with a girl whose name he didn't know four years later.

He would sometimes flip through his phonebook and see Mike's name and have a brief moment of remembrance and regret.

_ I wish I’d remembered to call him. God, how did I forget? He probably wants nothing to do with me. _

And the line would remain untouched.

But Richie did not understand some things outside his power were at work. Nor did any of his friends, as Richie met them at the quarry a brief while after his call.

“Hiya, Big Bill!” Richie greeted cheerfully.

“Hi Richie,” said Bill.

“Stan the Man couldn’t make it?” Richie asked, already knowing the answer.

The Losers all shook their heads.

“I call bullshit,” said Mike angrily.

“Yeah I dunno, it sounds suspicious,” said Beverly.

“Whatever. Let’s not think about s-Stan right now. We’re here to enjoy ourselves,” said Bill with faux cheer.

“Yeah, you’re right. Fuck Stanley,” said Richie grimly.

They found that they didn’t really enjoy themselves all that much that day, and they all knew why.

“Y’know-” Richie was about to comment on how strangely Stan had been acting ever since the confrontation at the Wheeler residence, but Eddie distracted them all by finding a leech on his leg and fainting.

After they evacuated with Eddie from the quarry, Bill turned to Richie. “You were about to s-say something?”

Richie thought hard for awhile, then said, “Y’know, I can’t really remember what it was.”

6

_Hawkins November 6, 1987 _

The Party rode over to Mike’s house after school excitedly. Mike had been promising an epic D&D campaign, the likes of which had never been seen before, to his friends for a while now.

“Today’s the day, boys,” said Mike proudly from atop his bike.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t hype it up too hard,” said Lucas excitedly.

They stopped outside Mike’s house, paying no mind to the “for sale” sign outside the house next door.

The autumn chill was finally beginning to transition to the biting cold of November nights. Mike wanted to stare at the clouds for a while longer, knowing by the intensity of the wind the clouds would be an impressive sight that night, but he had a job to do. And that job was providing the most insane campaign ever. 

“I’m ordering the pizza,” said Dustin purposefully as he entered the house.

“Woah, woah, woah!” cried Lucas.

Dustin stopped and turned around in confusion. “What?”

“Aren’t you gonna ask us what kind of pizza we want first? And how’re you even going to pay?” asked Lucas incredulously.

“Um, guys. It’s not that big a deal,” said Will.

“Because I know what kind of pizza we like. We order the same thing every time. And I thought we were gonna pool,” said Dustin defensively.

Mike ignored them as he ran upstairs to grab his binder. He glanced around at his room, wondering if he’d forgotten anything. He looked at his bed and was surprised to find a tear sliding down his cheek. He brushed it aside, curious.

He ran down to the basement, where the argument had carried on into.

“Okay, guys. Shut up.”

They stopped arguing immediately but continued talking.

Mike set up the board and put up his binder.

He put the pieces down behind the binder, and picked up the new one he’d bought specifically for this campaign. He’d had to spend his own allowance money for this.

_ Wait ‘till you guys get a load of this, _Mike thought smugly as he looked down at the demogorgon.

7

_Derry 1989 _

“We’re going to be back in two hours, alright, Bill?” said Sharon Denbrough.

“Mhmm.”

Sharon thought about giving him a hug, but thought better of it.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge if you’re hungry. Go to bed early if you feel like it, alright? Don’t wait up for us.”

“S-Sure.”

“Alright. Goodnight, dear.”

“Goodnight.”

Sharon and Zack left out the front door. Less than a minute later their car could be heard zooming off.

Bill felt pleased that he was getting some attention from his mom. This was a large improvement over the silent treatment she’d been giving him, not that this was that great, either.

_I guess things aren’t ever going to be the same again. Not after It fucked up my life._

Still, he couldn't complain. It was now gone, and he was freed of this burden. Mostly.

But he’d just have to take halfsies.

He walked back out onto the lawn, where his friends had been just hours before. They had been making snow angels, taking advantage of school being cancelled.

He stared at the first-emerging stars. Days were getting longer and nights shorter as they entered January, not that anyone could tell. He picked out Venus and Orion’s belt, and suddenly thought it would be smart to learn some constellations to impress Beverly. Maybe she might finally go on a date with him? _Fat chance, loser._

Bill squeezed his eyes shut in embarrassment and breathed, his breath manifesting in a solid white mass, floating through the air.

He sat down on a part of the driveway devoid of snow. He glanced back up and saw people and animals. He watched them for an eternity.

He sighed as a sudden, inexplicable peace came down upon him, and he stared at the stars contentedly.

_I wish you were here with me, Georgie. You deserved so much more._

He gulped as the familiar pain returned and made itself known, the feeling of a thousand needles piercing his heart. He continued to gaze at the winking pinpricks of light as the indigo dome under which he stood faded into black, and the moon began to peep its shiny head over the horizon.

And under the merry gazes of a million celestial eyes, Bill claimed one for his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was begun in San Francisco, California,  
on August 1, 2019,  
and completed in San Francisco, California,  
on August 21, 2019.


End file.
